


The Chariot

by goobs_socks



Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Angst, Friends With Benefits, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-11
Packaged: 2021-03-19 05:40:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 23
Words: 50,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29869974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goobs_socks/pseuds/goobs_socks
Summary: Y/n recently transferred to the BAU. She quickly became closer to a fellow agent than she ever thought possible. Will her past ruin her future, or will she get the happy ending she deserves?
Relationships: Spencer Reid & Reader, Spencer Reid/Original Character(s), Spencer Reid/Original Female Character(s), Spencer Reid/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 28





	1. ONE

As I laid on my back, tied down to the table, my eyes could focus on nothing but the bouquet of wilting roses to my side. My dad had gotten them for my mom last week for their anniversary. Staring at all their former glory, my brain tried to distract itself from the searing pain being inflicted on my limbs.

Just as the train symbolized the derailing of Anna Karenina’s life in Tolstoy’s most famous novel, a rose symbolized the destruction of mine.

\----

The jet landed at around 7pm on Friday. The case was as good as it gets: we beat the unsub at his own game and stopped him before too many lives were lost.

The team, still riding the wave of the arrest, walked through the glass doors of the BAU laughing at some dumb joke Morgan made. We barely made it into the bullpen before Garcia emerged from her room and asked, “who wants to get drinks?”

“Count me in, baby girl” Morgan said, with JJ and Prentiss happily agreeing.

I had recently joined the BAU as a transfer from the Kansas Bureau, and I figured it was still too soon to start flaking, so I joined in “O’Keefe’s at 8?”

“Yeah, I think I’ll come too” Reid added, uncharacteristically. Even in the short 6 months I had spent at the BAU, Spencer had only joined us for drinks once or twice tops.

By the time I finished my paperwork, the only person left was Reid. I stood up and started gathering my bag when he approached and asked “hey y/n could I, uh, get a ride to O’Keefe’s? I took the metro here and-”

“Of course, just give me a second,” I said, motioning with the case folder towards Hotch’s office. He was staying late again, like usual. As much as Reid didn’t join the team for after-hours fun, he did even less.

Without looking up, Hotch said “Good work today, y/n. You’re a valuable asset to this team.”

“Thank you, sir” you replied, trying not to blush too much as you turned and exited his office. You were never good with compliments.

Reid was waiting for you by the elevators. You both made your way to your old beat-up Honda Civic and drove in silence to the bar, nothing more than the noise of the engine and soft music playing over the radio to fill the void. You were always comfortable around him, even in what others might consider to be an excruciatingly awkward silence. There was an unspoken understanding of each other’s need to decompress before the tiring night of social interaction you had before you.

We arrived at the bar to cheers from the team, already multiple drinks deep. 

“Y/n! Y/n! Come sit!” Garcia shouted over the music, patting the seat next to her.

I smiled happily at her and flashed my finger, pointing it towards the bar. I finally caught the attention of the bartender.

“Gin and tonic, please.”

He handed me my drink and I hurried over to sit next to Garcia.

I was a few drinks in when some Jason Derulo song started blasting over the speakers, to which Garcia yanked Prentiss and JJ by the wrists and pulled them to the dancefloor. As little as they knew about me, they knew I wouldn’t dance no matter how much they begged.

That left Reid and I sitting alone at the table. With a little too much alcohol in my system and that previously comfortable silence suddenly becoming a little too uncomfortable, I struck up a conversation.

“So, what’re you reading these days?” I asked.

“Pride and Prejudice, actually. I’ve read some of Austen’s other works but have finally made my way to her most popular. You know, even though modern-day scholars see her as a modest, conservative person, she was one of the most revolutionary writers of her time. Her ability to so accurately display the inner workings of her character’s minds and women’s issues of her time was unparalleled, presumably because she based the story off of her own less successful experiences with love.”

I sat, chin resting on my palm, examining Reid as he rambled. It’s not that I didn’t understand what he was saying – I did, and I agreed – it was a mixture of the alcohol and post-case exhaustion that caused me to zone out. Before now, I never really noticed what he looked like. I had obviously seen him before, even at a bar, but I had never really noticed him. In this moment, the way his eyes lit up as he had another thought or the way his lips moved as he spoke made me feel something I couldn’t quite place.

I quickly banished those dangerous thoughts as Garcia stumbled over to the table and plopped down on the seat next to me. She barely got a word out before Morgan followed her over and suggested he take her home.

“But I don’t want to go! I’m with my friends.” She gestured at the two of you sitting in the booth.

After a little convincing, Garcia staggered towards the door, arm in arm with the man she affectionately nicknamed Chocolate Thunder. “Goodbye my lovelies!” She practically screamed at us.

I glanced down at my watch and decided it was about time for me to head home too. Despite having the weekend off, I didn’t want to spend it hungover and sleeping in my bed.

Standing was more difficult than I thought. The alcohol immediately rushed to my head causing me to grab the table for stability as I tried to stop the dizziness that overcame me. I didn’t realize how drunk I actually was.

Spencer aptly deduced that my inability to stand would translate to an inability to walk, so he guided me out of the bar, waving at JJ and Prentiss still dancing out on the floor. He brought me to my car, placing me into the passenger seat and closing the door. Seeing him sit in the driver’s seat was so foreign – I don’t actually think I’ve ever seen him drive. I assumed he could because everyone can drive, so I guess he just avoided it at work.

I barely registered what was happening until we pulled up outside of my apartment. He didn’t know where I lived, so I must’ve given him directions at some point along the way.

Reid helped me out of my car and ushered me up the stairs to my door. I fumbled with the keys until I finally unlocked it and walked inside. Turning around, our eyes met, and I softly spoke a “thank you, Reid, for bringing me home” as I gave a drunken smile.

“No problem, y/n. Goodnight.” He said, flashing a tight-lipped smile before turning and walking back down the steps.

I gently closed the door and leaned my back against it before realizing... I didn’t even ask for a ride.


	2. TWO

Monday had come and gone without a new case. The day was spent going through the mountains of files on my desk that never seemed to go away. Tuesday wasn’t much different. As glad as I was about serial killers apparently taking the weekend off, I was growing restless without a case.

If I was going to get anywhere near finishing my work, I needed some caffeine. I got up and walked into the breakroom where I took my time making my cup of coffee.

I was walking back to my desk when out of the corner of my eye I noticed Reid watching me. I slumped down into my chair and looked up at him, our eyes instantly meeting. Though our desks were across the bullpen, we faced each other as we sat in our chairs.

I gave him a swift nod and small smile to acknowledge our eye contact. Without any sort of reciprocation from him, he averted his eyes back down to the paperwork on his desk. That was weird, even for him.

The end of the day had finally arrived. I gathered my things and stopped to talk to JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia all gathered around Morgan’s desk.

“So, what’s everyone up to tonight?” JJ asked.

“I’m going to see a movie downtown at 8 if anyone wants to come.” Reid replied, clutching his messenger bag as he approached the group. He knew it was a long shot to ask because no one had ever joined him for a movie before. “It is entirely in Russian, but I’ve found you don’t need a fluent understanding of the language to follow-”

“Actually, that sounds fun!” Cutting him off mid-sentence, I didn’t process the words I said until they came out of my mouth. I tried to minimize the sound of excitement in my voice by adding “I-if that’s alright.”

“Watch out pretty boy, looks like you got yourself a date!” Morgan jabbed Reid with his elbow.

Prentiss noticed the embarrassment painted across my face and interjected, “hey take it easy on the kid, Morgan.”

\----

I pulled up to Reid’s apartment at 6:57pm and started typing a text to let him know I was outside. Before I could press send, I saw him walking down the stairs to my car.

He hopped in, and we were off. We sat making polite small talk until he asked “have you eaten anything yet? I was thinking we could go to this Thai place right around the corner from the theater.”

“No, I’m starving, and Thai food just so happens to be my favorite.” Smiling and looking at him out of the corner of my eye, I was surprised that I let even such a small, inconsequential piece of information about myself slip.

At the restaurant, I ordered tofu Pad Thai. Reid noticed the lack of meat in my order and trying to make conversation, asked, “Are you vegetarian?”

“Yes,” I chuckled. “I’ve been vegetarian for a year or two now, a direct result of watching one too many food documentaries on TV.”

“Have you ever read The Jungle by Upton Sinclair?”

I shook my head, not knowing more about the book than what I learned in my high school  
history class over a decade ago.

“It aimed to expose the poor working conditions of immigrants in big cities such as Chicago to further the argument for socialism in the United States. He unintentionally captured national attention to a few passages about meat packing plants and actually caused a series of new legislation including the Meat Inspection Act and the Pure Food and Drug Act.” Noticing the glassy look in my eyes, he added “I’m sorry, I’m rambling, aren’t I?”

“No, not at all, I enjoy listening to you talk.” And that was the truth. I couldn’t help but get lost in his words as he spoke.

Spencer looked down at his food and blushed slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. We split the check and walked down the block to the theater.

I wasn’t surprised when we walked inside, only seeing empty seats and two other people sitting near the front. We settled in the back of the room, Spencer mumbling something about these two seats being the spot where the audio sounded the best.

The armrest was conveniently up and the only thing that separated us was the gap between the chairs. About halfway through, I set my hand down on the chair, partially bridging the gap between us. In what seemed like an eternity later, Reid did the same, positioning his hand so our pinkies touched. My heart practically started beating out of my chest. Was I really this touch starved?

Throughout the whole movie, I noticed Reid glancing over every few minutes to watch my reactions to certain parts of it. From what I could gather, it was about some Russian scientist that put a human brain in a dog, turning the dog into a human. It was a weird movie, but I knew I wasn’t exactly the intended audience, either.

The movie ended, and on the walk back to my car, I tried to win some brownie points of the Russian literature variety by mentioning I read Anna Karenina when I was younger.

Reid ran with that statement, analyzing the themes of social change in nineteenth century Russia, forgiveness, death, and the symbolism of trains as it pertained to Anna’s life. I tried my hardest to control my micro expressions when he started talking about the last point, just nodding and smiling at him whenever the conversation warranted it.

I pulled to a stop outside of his apartment. He slowly unbuckled his seat belt and turned to me, asking, “would you uh- like to come up for some coffee?”

Against my better judgement, I smiled and unbuckled my seatbelt, indicating I would. I knew the implications of going up to someone’s apartment under the guise of a cup of coffee, but this wasn’t a date, and this was Spencer. Sweet, innocent Spencer.

His apartment was exactly how I imagined it – not that I made a habit of thinking about my coworker’s living situations. Olive green walls, bookcases on every wall overflowing with books so much that some had to be stacked on the floor. His desk was piled high with books on astronomy, art history, anything you could think of.

He put his keys down and motioned to the couch. “Make yourself at home, I’ll go make some coffee.”

I obliged, setting my purse down on the couch. Before I sat down, I walked over to one of the bookcases, drawing my finger along the spines and I paced. I stopped on a book about one of my favorite painters, Wassily Kandinsky. Pulling it from the shelf, I flipped through the pages.

Spencer returned, two cups of coffee in hand. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know how you liked it, so I just left it black.”

“That’s perfect.” I smiled and reached out to grab the mug shortly after returning the book to its resting place.

We sat on the couch and I nursed my coffee, not wanting this night to end before it had to. 

“Nice mug,” I giggled.

“Thanks,” he replied, blushing, because a jack-o-lantern mug in the middle of March seemed only somewhat out of place. “Halloween is my favorite holiday.”

I nodded in agreement. The scary stories of Halloween were nothing compared to what I saw on a daily basis.

“So, what did you think of the movie?” Reid questioned.

“It wasn’t too bad! I don’t know if I’d ever watch it again, but it was definitely... interesting. Maybe next time I can pick the movie,” I trailed off, avoiding eye contact as I took a sip of my coffee.

“And what movie would that be?”

“Hmm” I took a minute to think. “Into the Wild? I know it sounds childish, but that book and movie just makes me want to sell all of my belongings and live life as a hitchhiker.” I quietly thanked myself for not blurting out that I wanted to watch Twilight. After I moved here, I was desperate for anything that reminded me of home back in Kansas. Oddly enough, the baseball scene did, so I clung to it with everything I had.

“No, not at all, I can see where you’re coming from. The prospect of no responsibilities or plans other than to fulfill the basic need or survival is quite alluring.”

It was then that I realized our legs were touching. I don’t remember sitting this close to him or moving near him during our conversation. I turned to look at him as he took another sip. He set his mug down on the coffee table and looked back at me.

Before I knew it, our lips crashed against one another’s. It was a hurried kiss, almost as if one of us would change our mind part way through. I pulled away in an attempt to not spill my coffee all over our laps. I quickly placed my coffee on the table and looked back at him.

We sat there for a moment looking at each other. His eyes scanned mine almost to ask if I knew what had just happened.

Watching the gears in his head turn, I placed my hand on his cheek and slowly leaned in. We started kissing again, this time slightly less hesitant than before.

His hands raised to my back and pulled my body as close to his as possible. “Reid,” I breathed after a few minutes.

“Huh?”

“I- I think we should stop.”

“Oh, yeah, okay.” He down and refused to make eye contact. It didn’t take a profiler to know he was disappointed.

“I’m sorry, it’s not you. It’s just we work together, and I’ve made a habit of not making out with my coworkers.” Desperately trying to get out of this awkward situation I caused, I picked up my purse and began walking towards the door. “I should get going but thank you for the coffee and the movie. Really Reid, I had a good time.”

“No problem, I’m glad you could come.” A barely noticeable smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

I turned and opened the door, quietly latching it behind me on the way out. I couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming sense of guilt for how I just handled that situation. I didn’t mean to leave so abruptly but I knew if I had stayed much longer things would’ve gotten more complicated.

I pushed down those thoughts and wrote off the interaction as just two people who were tired after a long day. It didn’t mean anything, right? I repeated those lies over and over in my head until I started to believe them.


	3. THREE

It had been about a week since that night in Reid’s apartment. I had successfully avoided all of his attempts to talk about what happened, and I was intent on keeping it that way.

Just as I thought I was in the clear, I heard my phone buzz. I grabbed my phone off the table of the jet and saw a text.

Reid: Can we talk?

Damn it.

Me: Meet me by my car after we land.

I was cornered. It’s not like I could pretend I didn’t see the text because he was sitting 10 feet away from me and probably saw me pick up my phone. I laid my head back against my seat in defeat and turned up my music. Much to my dismay, it did little to distract my mind from thinking of all the possibilities tonight would bring.

\----

The drive back to Reid’s place was filled with small talk and anticipation of the real reason we were going there.

We climbed the steps to his apartment, and he unlocked his door. He swung it open, letting me walk through first before entering himself. I set down my go bag near the near the couch and stood awkwardly in the middle of the living room. He locked the door and I watched his eyes flick down to where I was scratching at my arms.

I didn’t even realize I was doing it. It was one of those nervous tics I developed as a teenager and never seemed to outgrow.

“Listen, y/n,” Spencer took a few steps towards me. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable last week, and I didn’t ask you up for coffee with the intention that would happen.”

“It’s okay, Spencer, I promise.” That was the first time I called him by anything other than Reid.

I kept my eyes glued to my feet, studying the way my ratty pair of Vans looked against his wood floors. He didn’t say another word as I worked up the courage to walk towards him. I finally tore my eyes away from my shoes and looked up to see him staring sweetly back down at me, causing butterflies to erupt in my stomach.

Every ounce of common sense I had told me not to do it. That this would only ruin things so soon after I joined the BAU. That as much as I could try, I would never be available for more than a hook up. But I compartmentalized those thoughts, convincing myself it was a problem for future me.

I fully understood the selfish hypocrisy of my next actions. I was the one that turned him down last time. But nevertheless, in spite of the fear of rejection spreading throughout my mind, I lifted both my hands up to grip his arms.

He flinched slightly before relaxing into my touch. The once sensitive look on his face changed to that of a more curious one.

I tried to answer the questions his eyes were asking me by bringing my hand up to his face and gently running my thumb across his cheek. He paused briefly, thinking through every possible outcome before responding with a kiss, wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me as close as he could.

We maintained the kiss as he guided me backwards down the hall to his room. The bed hit the back of my knees and they buckled, forcing me to fall down onto the bed. I giggled and looked up at Spencer standing in front of me.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” He searched my eyes for any hint of hesitancy.

“I’m sure.” I gave him a playful smile and scooted back on the bed. I suddenly found myself not caring about the rule I made to never get involved with a coworker.

His lips came up to meet mine as he hovered over me. His tongue brushed against my bottom lip and I opened my mouth, allowing him the access he wanted. I unbuttoned his shirt and slowly brought it down his shoulders, taking it off and throwing it somewhere across the room. He did the same with my long sleeve button down, but I stopped him from taking it all the way off. He didn’t seem to mind as his hand traced down along my chest and stomach before reaching the place I wanted him most.

I let out a sigh as he hooked his fingers in the waistband of my underwear, moving to undo my pants and pull them down off of my legs. His fingers returned and began rubbing small circles on my clit, my hips bucking in response to his touch.

“You’re already so wet for me,” he breathed, trailing kisses down my jaw before coming to rest on my neck.

I could only manage to let out a string of moans in response before his fingers found their way to my entrance, his middle finger thrusting in at a tantalizingly slow pace. He started going faster, and I gasped as he added a second finger, curling them ever so slightly to hit my most sensitive spot.

I felt my orgasm building in my lower stomach. I didn’t last long once his thumb began rubbing my clit as he continued fingering me.

“Cum for me, y/n,” he said, pulling his head back from my neck to look at me as I came undone on his hand.

And that’s exactly what I did. I reached my first climax and released what seemed like years of pent-up energy due to some past not-so-satisfying sexual partners.

Immediately after I finished, I flipped him over on his back, quickly working to undo his belt buckle and slide off his pants. I pulled down his boxers and exposed his hard dick, the tip already glistening with precum. I stared in awe as his was the biggest I’d seen. 

Trying not to boost his ego too much, I quickly I situated myself between his legs began my work. This was going to be fun.

I licked up his shaft and slowly began taking him in my mouth, inch by inch.

“Fuck,” he moaned.

I watched his face as he hit the back of my throat, my hand wrapping around his base to stroke whatever I couldn’t fit in my mouth. I picked up my pace, my tongue swirling around his dick with every movement. He looked down at me through half lidded eyes before throwing his head back into the pillows.

I continued until I could tell he was close, his dick twitching as I choked on it. I released his dick from my mouth and moved up the bed until I was straddling him. I pressed my chest against his and between kisses on his neck, I asked “do you... have... something?”

He freed himself from beneath my legs and pulled out a condom from his nightstand. He laid me down on my back and put the condom on. He lined up at my entrance and searched my eyes as he slowly pushed in, waiting for me to adjust before sliding in more. I let out a sigh, signaling to him that I wanted everything he could give me.

His lips crashed down onto mine as he thrusted faster into me. He adjusted his hips slightly and continued driving into me, finding my g spot. His hand moved down to put pressure on my clit and rub it in tight circles.

“Oh fuck, d-don’t stop,” I whined as he began kissing my pulse point. I felt my second orgasm of the night bubbling in my lower stomach, filling my entire body with a radiating heat. His dick twitched as my walls tightened around him.

“Do you like how my dick feels inside of you?” He groaned in a low voice I didn’t think he was capable of.

I only managed to whimper in response as I inched closer to my release.

“Use your words.” Spencer continued thrusting into me at a relentless pace. 

“Y-Yes... yes!” I screamed, unashamed at anyone who could hear us.

“Shit, y/n, you feel so good.” His fingers never let up pressure on my clit as he buried his head in my neck, nearing his own release. The sound of my name on his lips played on repeat in my mind as I came, my walls throbbing around him. He thrusted a few more times before filling up the condom and letting out one final moan.

The only noise filling the room was of our panting breaths as we came down from our orgasms. Against my better judgment, I let us lay like that for a few minutes, his body collapsed on top of mine and his dick still inside of me. I had already broken so many of my own rules, what was another one? I dragged my hands up and down his back, memorizing the curves of his body with my fingertips.

Finally, he pulled out of me, rolled onto his back, and took the condom off before throwing it away.

I stood up and went to pee, stopping to look at myself in the mirror as I washed my hands. Small bruises were already beginning to form on both sides of my neck. I couldn’t believe what just happened. Spencer, the sweet, young, genius of the team just made me cum twice in one night? No person had ever elicited that response from me, and for that reason, I hoped this wasn’t the last time I would come over to his apartment to “talk.”

I walked back into his room to see him putting on some pajama pants and a shirt. “Do you want to stay?” he asked.

Despite having my go bag in the other room, I figured I should go home and clean up before work tomorrow. “I uh... I don’t mean to just fuck you and leave, but I think I should go home.” I started walking around the room collecting my clothes.

“Oh, alright.” A wave of relief crossed his face.

I finished putting on my slacks and he walked me to his front door. With my bag in one hand, Spencer leaned down and pulled me in for one last kiss before handing it to me.

“Goodnight, y/n.” He flashed me a tight-lipped smile.

“Goodnight, Spencer.” I whispered before leaving and walking down the steps to my car.

I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel and sighed. I had just gone over there to talk about one kiss, but as much as I begged myself not to, we had hooked up.

What the fuck did I just get myself into?


	4. FOUR

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: mentions of addiction

I awoke to the sound of my phone buzzing on my nightstand. I fumbled for it in the dark before mumbling a “hello?”

“It’s Hotch. We have a case and it’s urgent. Get here as fast as you can.” 

“Okay, be there in 30.” I hung up.

The clock on my phone said 4:37am. I groaned before reaching to turn on the lamp. I threw on a pair of slacks and a sweater, meanwhile dumping out my go bag and stuffing it with clean clothes. I’m thankful that I showered a couple hours ago after getting back from Spencer’s.

I sped to the BAU while using every red light to put on what little makeup I could. I parked and giggled to myself in the rearview mirror. I felt like a teenager again, putting on concealer to hide the fresh hickies on my neck.

I exited the elevator and walked through the glass doors to the BAU, not stopping at my desk before making a beeline to the breakroom. I needed coffee. Now.

“H-Hey, Reid.” Of course he was the only other one in the room.

He didn’t so much as look up at me as he dumped copious amounts of sugar in his coffee and abruptly said “I think this goes without saying, but don’t tell the team what happened last night.”

I chuckled. “I may not be a literal genius, but I’m not stupid.” I playfully jabbed him in the side with my elbow before fixing my own cup of coffee.

Still not meeting my eyes, he smiled, “good,” and left, walking up to join the team for the briefing.

“Good morning, everyone. Our next case is in Great Falls, Montana. Three brunette Caucasian women have been reported missing over the last 14 months. A fourth woman just went missing from a local grocery store.”

“Montana’s requesting our help?” questioned a man I presumed to be Rossi. I knew little about him other than the books he wrote about his time at the FBI. Garcia told me he was joining the team; I was just surprised it was for one of our early morning cases.

“40 minutes after the abduction, Troopers spotted her car on the highway. When they tried to apprehend the driver, he blew himself up with a grenade, sending one officer to the ICU.” Hotch added. “We’ll discuss more on the jet. Wheels up in 30.”

\----

After in Montana, it didn’t take us long to figure out who the dead unsub was. Now, our main priority was finding the fourth victim alive.

Reid and I pulled up outside of the dead unsub’s neighbor’s house. There was trash strewn across dirt patch out front, and the walls surrounding the door were plastered in signs saying things like “keep Montana armed” and “no solicitors” scrawled out on pieces of cardboard.

He knocked on the screen door and I stood a few feet behind him.

A man approached and warned “what the hell do you want? Can’t you read?”

“Sir we’re not salesmen, we’re with the FBI.” I stated as we both flashed our badges.

“You’re not serious.” He turned and gestured towards Reid. “You look like a pipe cleaner with eyes.”

I tried my hardest to contain my laughter, but I couldn’t help but smile at the comment. He wasn’t wrong.

We found the fourth victim, recently killed, behind the unsub’s house. Her body was laid among rose bushes, blood staining her shirt. How fitting, I thought. I know that red roses typically symbolize love, beauty, romance, etc., but to me they only ever seemed to be surrounded by death.

Disappointed that we didn’t find her alive, we met back at the cheap motel for the night. Hotch handed us our keys and I went to my room.

I hopped in the shower and as soon as I finished, I heard a knock at my door. Hair sopping wet, I quickly threw on an oversized t-shirt and some shorts before answering it. It was Reid. He nervously looked around to ensure no one saw him as he asked, “can I come in?”

“Yeah, sure.” Stunned that he knew what room I was staying in, I stood back and opened the door enough for him to slide past me.

I stood with my arms pressed against my stomach, scratching them anxiously as he began “I-I can’t stop thinking about last night.”

“I guess we should probably talk about that, huh.” I sat gingerly on the edge of the bed with Spencer following suit.

“I really enjoyed it and...” he trailed off slightly before continuing in a register I could barely hear, “I wouldn’t mind if we did it again.”

“Are you suggesting what I think you are, Dr. Reid?” I joked.

“Depends.”

He obviously was not going to take the next step in the conversation without any indication of my thoughts on the subject.

I followed, “so, friends with benefits?”

“What’s that?”

Man, for a genius with an IQ of 187, he sure was clueless about some things.

“It is what it sounds like. We’d just stay friends but have sex occasionally, hence the ‘benefits.’ If that’s what you wanna do, I think we should come up with some rules first.”

“I want to,” he stated before pausing, the gears turning in his head. “Rule number one, the team can never know.”

“And two, no feelings allowed.” Even though I added that rule, I had a suspicion I had already broken it just as carelessly as the others.

But just as with every other anxiety-inducing thought I had, I put it in a neat box and on a high shelf in my brain. Maybe that level of compartmentalization wasn’t healthy, but damn did it work.

We finished making the rules and shook on it. Even germaphobe Reid understood the social importance of a handshake every once in a while. He left my room soon after. The chances of getting caught by the team right now were too high for either of us to want to risk it.

\----

The case ended before any more lives were lost. As far as they go, this one wasn’t as bad as most. It was quick too; we caught the unsub after a few days.

I propped my head on my hand and slowly drifted off to sleep on the jet. Man, did I need that nap. Prentiss gently shook me awake as we landed back at Quantico.

Back in the bullpen, Prentiss suggested we all go out for drinks. Much to no one’s surprise, Morgan, JJ, and Garcia all happily agreed. I, however, decided to sit this one out. All I wanted to do was grab some takeout on the way home and curl up in front of the TV all night.

Like usual, I was the last one left – save Hotch and Spencer – working on paperwork for the case. It was a lot more complicated than what I had to write after cases back in Kansas, so I was still getting the hang of it.

I finally finished and handed it to Hotch. I walked back to my desk and gave Reid a nod goodbye as I gathered my things and waited for the elevator. The doors were inches from shutting until Spencer barreled into the elevator with me.

Out of breath, he panted “so, what are you doing tonight?” His tone hinted that it was less a question and more of a hopeful statement that he would be the one I was doing that night.

“I don’t know, I was thinking I would grab some food and take it easy.” 

“Mind if I join? There’s a good ramen place nearby that I think you’d like.”

“Sure!” I understood that we weren’t just going to dinner, so I added “but could we go back to your place? Mine isn’t exactly the uh... cleanest.”

I lied through my teeth. I kept my apartment spotless; I just didn’t want him to get any ideas about me based on the stuff I owned. I needed to control what my coworkers knew about me because if they knew too much, they’d look at me with pity: something I had grown accustomed to over the years.

Spencer nodded and smiled at me. He didn’t seem to pick up on my lie. 

\----

Dinner was almost as great as the company I shared it with. He barely knew me, yet the words he spoke and the way he spoke them would suggest otherwise. It’s like everything he said, every tangent he went on was a direct result of my thoughts in that exact moment. I knew he was a good profiler, but he wasn’t that good.

He told me a bit about how he came to work at the FBI. “I graduated high school at 12 got PhDs in Math, Chemistry, and Engineering. I also have two BAs in Psychology, Sociology, and I’m working on my third in Philosophy.”

“Wow,” I whispered. I knew he was a genius with an eidetic memory, but that’s still a lot for anyone to accomplish before the age of 30.

The conversation took on a serious tone when he disclosed that he had been addicted to hydromorphone, or Dilaudid. I didn’t know how to respond. I remained silent and reached across the table to grab his hand, telling him through my actions that I was here to listen. He only had to share what he was comfortable with.

He understood the meaning of my movements and continued to tell me how he was kidnapped and tortured by an unsub, Tobias Hankel. Hankel had three distinct personalities, one of which took pity on Reid by injecting him with Dilaudid to ease the pain the others inflicted.

My heart broke each time he revealed a new detail. I wished I could take just a little bit of his pain for myself. I knew how to handle it, and above all, I knew he was the last person who deserved it.

No one chooses to become dependent on drugs, just like no on chooses to relapse after getting sober. The DSM-5 classifies it as a chronic, relapsing brain disease in which the person compulsively seeks drugs, despite the harmful consequences that accompany them.

He finished communicating everything he wished to, to which I responded in a low voice, “I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that, Spence. I know that I – or any of us – will never truly understand, but I’m here for you. I always will be. You know that, right?”

“Yes, I do.” A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he looked down at our empty ramen bowls.

We split the bill and I drove us back to his place. I left my bag in my car so that I wouldn’t allow myself to spend the night. Assuming he offered again, that is. He had barely closed his door behind us before I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling his lips down to meet mine.

This time was more hurried and intense as my need to feel him became all-consuming. We simultaneously unbuttoned each other’s shirts while I led him over to the couch and gave him one strong push back onto the cushions. I looked him in the eyes as I kicked off my shoes and pulled down my pants, leaving my unbuttoned shirt and bra on.

“Have you been tested recently?” I interrogated.

His eyes scanned up and down my body as he watched me undress. “Yes, I’m clean,” he replied.

“So am I. I’m on birth control, so I’m okay with not using a condom if you are.” I breathed out, moving to straddle him on the couch, bringing my hands to his head and twirling my fingers through his curly brown hair.

I didn’t ask if he was sleeping with anyone else because I already knew the answer. He wasn’t that kind of guy.

His bulge was straining against the tight confines of his pants as I started rubbing against him, looking in his eyes as I waited for an answer.

“Yes,” he said through a big grin on his face as he leaned in to kiss me again. His hands reached up to cradle both sides of my face.

My hands released his hair and dragged down along his face, chest, and torso before unbuttoning his pants. His hips raised slightly to allow me to tug his pants down and expose his hard dick.

I lowered onto it slowly and moaned into his mouth as I felt my walls stretch with every inch. I raised my hips back up to where his tip was barely inside me. I began riding him at an excruciatingly slow pace.

He pulled his head away and sighed “fuck, you’re such a tease,” as his head fell against the back of the couch. Soon growing tired of my games, he thrusted his hips up as I came back down on his dick. I gasped and grabbed the back of the couch to stabilize myself.

As I settled into the new rhythm he kept, I put my hands on his chest and dug my nails into his skin, sure to leave marks the next day.

One of his hands snaked down and began rubbing my clit as he continued fucking me.

I noticed him studying my reaction every time he touched me. I wouldn’t be surprised if he stored the information away in his brain, ready to use it at any moment.

I felt my orgasm bubbling inside me as a mix of incoherent noises and sobs left my mouth. He raised his head and opened his eyes before he growled in that same voice I heard once before: “look at me while you cum, y/n.”

I nodded in response, instantly getting lost in his light brown eyes. I knew this was a bad idea, it was too intimate for friends who just fucked every once in a while. But as I saw his mouth slightly open, sweat beading on his forehead, eyes looking back into mine, I couldn’t help but wish I could exist in this moment with him forever. Fuck.

I cried out his name among a string of curse words as I came. My body started shaking from overstimulation as he continued fucking me from underneath through my orgasm until he finished, filling me with his cum.

I finally collapsed onto his chest and he tenderly kissed the top of my head. We sat there for a few minutes, neither of us wanting to disturb the calm that we created.

But sadly, all good things must come to an end. I swung my leg over him and flopped down onto the couch next to him. He pulled up his pants and stood to go to the bathroom. I sat with my eyes closed, afraid if I tried to stand my legs would crumble underneath me.

Soon, Spencer returned with a warm washcloth. He kneeled between my legs and gently wiped the mess he created on my inner thighs.

I eventually stood and put my pants back on, buttoning up my shirt in the process. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay? It’s getting pretty late,” he offered.

“Yeah, I’m sure, thank you though. I left my bag outside anyways.” Thank god for past me thinking ahead for this exact question.

I grabbed my phone and keys and walked to the door. He stood in the middle of his living room, watching me. I turned around as I twisted the doorknob to leave. “Goodnight, Spence.”

“Goodnight, y/n. I’ll see you tomorrow.”


	5. FIVE

Reid and I had been hooking up for a couple weeks now. Despite being surrounded by people whose literal job it was to read others, we managed to keep our secret so far.

We had made it a rule to not have sex while on a case, generally opting to head back to his place immediately after returning to Virginia. He had made it very obvious that he wanted to see my apartment, so time I would suggest his instead, I could tell he was disappointed. I just wasn’t ready to bring him there.

However, while not on a case, our interactions at work mostly consisted of standing a little too close in the breakroom, stolen glances, and smiles across the bullpen.

Occasionally, if I wasn’t too behind on paperwork, I would spend my lunches at his desk as he tried – and failed – to teach me how to play chess. I knew exactly how to push his buttons until he would eventually give up, saying I was the worst chess player he’d ever seen.

“But what’s the point of playing when you’re gonna beat me every time?!”

“Y/n, the point is to learn! It’s more fun to beat someone that knows how to play!”

I probably should’ve actually put some effort into learning the rules, but I really couldn’t care less about chess. It was just nice to have some harmless fun laughing with (and at) him.

\----

The next case was in Annapolis, so JJ told me I didn’t need a go bag. I was relieved to not be traveling this week.

Arriving for the day, I walked through the glass doors and saw the BAU crawling with people in military uniforms. What the hell happened?

I ran up to the round table room where everyone was waiting for me. The woman, introduced as the Chief of Special Pathogens with the CDC, didn’t hesitate to begin as she said that 25 people had been hospitalized yesterday with suspected Anthrax infections.

“Within the first 10 hours, the first victim died.” JJ said.

“But anthrax doesn’t kill this fast.” Reid stated without a second thought.

“This strain does. The spores were weaponized to an ideal infectious agent that attacks   
deep in the lungs.”

I shot Reid a concerned look as he frantically flipped through the file for any helpful information.

Hotch interjected and added “our offices will serve as a small command center for Defense. We’ll be working with military scientists from Fort Dietrich. Reid, go to the hospital and interview the victims. Y/n and Morgan, there’s a hazmat team that will accompany you to the crime scene.” He gestured down at the table. “There’s cipro. Everybody needs to take it before we go.”

“We don’t know if it’s effective against this strain, but it’s better than nothing.” The woman confessed.

I threw back the pill and Reid gave me an uncertain look as we parted ways.

Morgan and I arrived at the crime scene to men halfway dressed in hazmat suits. One of them approached us and said “Hot zone and surrounding areas have been neutralized. You’re safe here.”

We walked around the crime scene and didn’t find much information to add to the profile, so we got back in the SUV and drove to the BAU.

Morgan, Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, and I presented what little we knew about this unsub. Immediately after, an employee of the Defense Department approached us. “I think there’s something you need to see.”

We went to the roundtable room and he played us a video of an older man ranting about the government’s lack of preparation for Anthrax attacks. I think we just found our unsub.

Garcia worked her magic and found his home and work addresses. Rossi and I went to his work while Morgan picked up Reid from the hospital and went to his house.

\----

(Spencer)

Morgan and I walked through the unsub’s yard when he stopped to take a call from Garcia. “Tell me what you got, Princess.”

I kept walking and entered the unsub’s shed in the backyard. Just as I had discovered what we came here for, I heard Morgan shouting my name. I ran and closed the glass door, fear spreading across my whole face, and locked him out. There were anthrax spores scattered all around the lab.

The man we came here looking for was dead on the ground with blunt force trauma evident on his head. There were two unsubs.

Thirty minutes later, I watched Hotch through the window as I dialed his number on my phone. “I really messed up this time, Hotch.”

“Reid, we need to get you out and to the hospital.”

“No. I’m staying right here.” I saw what the victims were like at the hospital. None of the drug combinations were working and statistically, I knew that this was going to kill me. I figured I would be more useful here working the case and looking for a cure than in a hospital bed.

I still hadn’t found anything as sweat beaded on my forehead from exhaustion. I called Garcia and she answered in an uncharacteristically somber voice. I chose not to mention it because I figured I was to blame.

“Garcia, do you think you could do something for me?” “Anything.”

“I uh- I know I can’t call my mom without alerting everyone at her hospital...” I trailed off, “but I-I need you to record a message for her in case anything happens to me.”

I heard her typing on her keyboard. “Okay, I’m ready”

So, I said goodbye to my mom, hoping she would never have to hear it. 

\----

(y/n)

The second I heard Reid was infected, I begged Rossi to leave the unsub’s work and go to where he was. Rossi dropped me off and headed back to the BAU where he would be more helpful. I stood around like an idiot talking to Morgan and Hotch trying to pretend like I was focused on the case. I just needed to know how Spencer was.

I finally saw him walk out of the little building into a decontamination area. There were two people in bright orange hazmat suits spraying him down with a hose.

He looked at me as I stood before him, scratching at my sleeved arms, and said with a bite in his voice, “go help Hotch.”

I tried, and failed, to hide the hurt in my eyes. “Hotch has plenty of people helping him.” 

“He needs you more than I do.”

“Spence, I’m gonna see you off to the hospital,” I insisted.

“I’m about to get naked so they can scrub me down. Please leave, y/n,” he pleaded with a helpless look in his eyes.

'It’s not like I haven’t seen you naked before,' I retorted in my head. Even though I had seen the most intimate parts of him many times before, that was in a different context. “I’ll catch up with you later, then.” I nodded and walked away. I didn’t want him to have to suffer through this alone – the people in the hazmat suits didn’t count, after all – but I understood the reasons behind his actions.

With nothing left there to help us track down the unsub, everyone filed into the SUVs and headed back to the BAU. Shortly after arriving, Prentiss and Rossi figured out the unsub was targeting the subway.

Within the hour, the unsub was arrested. Learning of his apprehension, I sped to the hospital to check in on Spencer. I sat next to his bed for hours, reading whatever shitty magazines I grabbed from the waiting room.

“You’re eating jell-o?” He mumbled, eyes barely opening.

I was; I figured he wasn’t eating it and it wasn’t doing any good just sitting on the table. Plus, I don’t remember the last time I ate. “Welcome back, Spence. I was worried about you.” I grabbed his hand and squeezed it lightly.

“What happened? Is there any more jell-o?” Despite his groggy state, he interlaced his fingers with mine.

“You’re gonna be alright. We got the unsub. It’s all over.” We held hands as I watched him close his eyes and drift back asleep. He looked so peaceful like this. Like he was finally given a break from all of the thoughts constantly speeding through his head.

As any good friend would, I stayed beside him for days, only going home to shower and pick up clothes from his place for when he was discharged.

Other members of the team would come visit every once in a while, at which point I would leave and go to the cafeteria to grab some subpar hospital food.

I sometimes wondered if I was smothering him, but those thoughts were squashed as soon as I saw his warm brown eyes look at me. I was just glad he was okay. I felt like I finally had someone I could rely on in D.C., and I didn’t know if I could handle losing him too.


	6. SIX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: mention of scars similar to self harm, mention of addiction

Spencer had taken two weeks off of work to go visit his mom and the team continued going on cases in his absence. We had managed to catch three unsubs, but there was obviously something missing in the group dynamic, something only the brainiac fix.

We got back from the last case early on a Saturday evening. Someone suggested drinks like they always did when we got back at a decent time on the weekend.

I decided to join them, with nothing – or no one – better to do tonight.

Much to my surprise, I showed up to O’Keefe’s to find Spencer sitting alone in a booth, head buried in a book. It takes a certain kind of person to bring a book to a bar, let alone actually reading it there. The team would’ve made fun of him for it, but I found it endearing.

I bypassed the bar and immediately went to sit across the table from him. “Hey! I didn’t know you were back yet; how’d you know we were coming here?”

“Yeah, I just got back this afternoon. Morgan texted me a while ago, I’m honestly surprised you beat him here.”

We both had stupid grins on our faces as I opened my mouth to ask how he was. “Well, hey there, lovebirds.” Morgan interrupted as he approached the table.

Shit. Did he know? We’ve been so careful at work, there’s no way he’d know. I tried and failed to comfort myself as my mind raced through every possible way he could’ve found out.

“Oh, go talk to Garcia over at the bar,” I quipped, trying to hide the truth behind his greeting. “You want time alone, I get it,” he winked at us before doing as I suggested.

The night went on and the whole team spent it laughing and shouting over the music. Even Spencer was drinking. Not knowing if I should be worried or not, I shook it off. He was an adult perfectly capable of making his own decisions.

At one point, I got up and excused myself to the bathroom, needing a brief break from the noise and socialization more than anything. I was washing my hands as I heard a knock at the door.

“Hey, its me.”

I cracked the door. “Spencer? Wha-”

He burst past me into the room. “I can’t keep sitting out there and pretending I’m not thinking about doing this.” He put his hands on either side of my confused face and pulled me in for a kiss.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and ran my fingers through his hair. The kiss was slow, like he was searching for an answer that only my lips could give him.

I prematurely ended the kiss. No amount of alcohol would make me want to have sex in a dingy bar bathroom. “Spence, we can’t do this here, the team is right outside.”

“I don’t care.” He kissed me again.

I allowed myself to kiss him back for a minute until I pulled away a second time, dropping my hands from his hair and taking a step back. “They’ll notice we’re both gone.”

He looked at me angrily and I could tell he had a little too much to drink. “I don’t care, y/n! I don’t care! I almost died a few weeks ago and I missed you!” The anger now mixed with sadness and curiosity as he looked down at me scratching my arms.

“C-Could we not do this here? Let’s just go back to your place and talk,” I pleaded with him.

He barreled past my question as if nothing had left my mouth. “That’s another thing! Why have I never been to your apartment? And why the hell do you keep scratching your arms?”

I couldn’t answer either of those questions. I tried my hardest not to take his anger personally.

He was just drunk and looking to take it out on someone, and I was a convenient target.

That sentiment changed after what he did next.

He grabbed my wrist and yanked up the sleeve of my shirt, revealing what I had been trying so hard to hide from him. There were five horizontal scars across my forearm, still slightly raised despite their age. He looked down in horror at what he had done.

I wrenched my arm from his grasp as my newfound anger went to my head. “Did you get the answer you were looking for? Don’t worry, I didn’t do this to myself.” I could feel the walls that I had so tirelessly broken down for him form once again, boxing me in with my rage and past trauma.

Spencer slowly brought his eyes back up to meet mine. They tried to convey the sorrow and guilt coursing through his veins among the alcohol, yet nothing left his mouth.

I tried to stop myself before what I said next. I knew it would end this arrangement as soon as I uttered those words. But maybe, that was the point.

“What, were you expecting track marks? Not everyone is an addict, Reid!” I shouted at him, tears immediately forming in my eyes.

His jaw fell ever so slightly. The sudden sting of my words made him drop my wrist and storm out of the bathroom, slamming the door on his way out.

I stood for a second, still in shock at my monumental moment of self-sabotage. My mind thought back to the first two lines of a poem by Emily Dickinson:

"I like a look of agony,   
Because I know it’s true."

I saw that agony on his face. He had followed me here to get what little comfort I could offer, but instead left with more misery than when he entered.

Tears falling down my cheeks, I charged back into the bar, bumping into Prentiss on my way to get my purse. She grabbed my shoulders and stopped me.

“Hey, hey, wait slow down, y/n. Are you alright?”

“Not now, Emily,” I hissed. Add that to the list of things to apologize for later. I snatched my things and left, ignoring the confused looks from Morgan and Garcia. I needed to find Spencer. I had to apologize to him. No matter how he acted, he didn’t deserve me weaponizing his trauma against him. No one deserved to be treated like that.

I only had one drink, so thankfully, I could drive myself rather than waiting on a cab. I slammed on my brakes into a parking spot in front of his place and yanked the emergency brake. Taking two steps at a time, I ran up the stairs to his apartment.

“Reid, it’s me, p-please open the door,” I pounded repeatedly on his door. No answer. “Spencer I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry, please, just open up the door and we can talk.” Tears continued streaming down my face.

With the hopes that he was on the other side listening to me, I tried to explain my actions through uncontrollable sobs. I was literally on my knees begging for his forgiveness.

“I fucked up. I-I never meant to say those things and hurt you. It was wrong. I’m a terrible fucking person and I promise I’ll tell you everything if you just let me inside. Please, j-just let me inside.”

Nothing.

I sat there for a few more minutes before realizing it was hopeless. If he hadn’t answered the door by now, he wasn’t going to.

My head hung with defeat and overwhelming guilt, I stood up and wandered back to my car. I turned off the radio, put the car into gear, and drove home in silence. I didn’t deserve music.

\----

(Spencer POV)

I wish I never followed her to the bathroom. After all, did I really think she would have sex with me in there? Public restrooms are one of the most bacteria-filled spaces we encounter on a daily basis.

If I had just stayed in my damn seat, I wouldn’t have seen her arms and forced her to say those things to me. She was right, I did think she would have track marks.

I wracked my brain to try and come up with something that could have caused those scars.

‘I didn’t do this to myself.’

Luckily, no one on the team seemed to notice me when I sprinted out of the bar. I caught a cab right outside and went back to my apartment. Just as I locked the door and set down my keys, I heard someone bang on the door.

It was y/n.

I reached out and grabbed the doorknob, stopping myself before I turned it. I didn’t even know what I would say to her, how I would be able to look at her. I know I needed to apologize, but I couldn’t seem to find the right words yet.

But, in spite of my overwhelming guilt, I couldn’t forgive her words so easily either.

Tears welled in my eyes as I heard her sob an apology. I was such a fucking asshole. First, I made a few poorly thought-out decisions in the bathroom, and now I’m making her stand outside, crying and vulnerable. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t get my hand to twist the handle.

Time, I thought as if she could hear me. Just give me some time.

I barely slept that night, the bags under my eyes as noticeable as ever. As soon as I got off the elevator at the BAU the next day, I turned left, averting the glass doors and heading towards Garcia’s dungeon.

“Hey, Garcia,” I knocked.

Spinning around in her chair, she chirped “Well, hello, boy wonder, what can I do for you?”  
I walked in and sat down in an empty chair. “I was wondering if you could look something up for me. But would you mind just keeping it between us?”

“Sure thing, lay it on me.”

“Uh, could you look at y/n’s file? I’m worried about her,” I asked. 

“That’s a bit of an invasion of privacy, don’t you think?”

“Please.” I begged. She never told me anything personal and I needed to know more about her if I was ever going to figure out why she had those scars. I hated that it had come to this – that I felt the need to get Garcia to snoop into her official FBI file just so I could learn something about her. But even more than that, I hated that I let myself do it.

She finally gave in, typing furiously on her keyboard and pulling up documents on one of her many screens. “Looks like the pretty standard stuff, high school, college, previous jobs... and...”

“What?”

“T-There’s a sealed file. Like, scary sealed. Why does she have a sealed file?”

My mind ran through the possible contents. It had to be related to her scars.

‘I didn’t do this to myself.’ She had said.

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know anything.”

“Do I open it?” She took a brief pause before continuing, “no, I can’t open it. I’m sorry, Reid.” She apologized despite having nothing real to apologize for.

I never would’ve asked her to open that file. I just had to trust that if y/n wanted me to know, she would tell me, right? That didn’t seem to be the case this far into our friendship, but maybe that would change now that I knew there was something very obviously wrong. At least, that’s what I repeated in my head in a futile attempt to convince myself not to worry.

“Well, thanks anyways, Garcia,” I stood and left the room, knowing less about her than when I entered.


	7. SEVEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: mentions of death/dying

It had been 10 days since that night at O’Keefe’s. The next time I saw Prentiss at work, I apologized, blaming my actions on the alcohol. I don’t think she believed me, but nevertheless she accepted my attempt.

“Do you know if Reid is alright, though? He disappeared the other night and he’s been acting weird ever since.”

“Uh, I’m not sure, sorry,” I lied through my teeth.

“Oh, okay. Just figured I’d ask because you two seem to be pretty close these days.” The tone of her voice implied ever so slightly that she suspected we were more than just coworkers. Whether that meant friends or what we had actually been doing, I don’t know.

She was right though, we had been growing closer ever since our arrangement started. That made it hurt even more when Reid didn’t so much as look at me over those 10 days. I often found myself staring at him across the bullpen or the jet, just hoping I would catch his eyes and force him to acknowledge my existence.

I never knew if he heard me that night outside of his apartment. I didn’t expect him to forgive me – I could barely forgive myself for what I had said, but I thought that if he heard my muffled apology, he’d at least be able to look at me.

Hotch called Reid and I into his office. Shit.

“Hey, Hotch, what’s up?” Spencer sat down at a chair in front of his desk without recognizing  
my presence in the room.

“I’m sending you two to Colorado to pose as Child Protective Services agents. There was a distress call from a girl in a religious group, The Septarian Sect, and we need both of you to make sure she’s safe. You leave in 30.”

“Sure thing” I replied. Maybe this alone time would force Spencer to talk to me.

It was just the opposite, as he chose to sit at the other end of the jet from me. How long was he going to punish me for this?

As we disembarked, I mumbled, “can we please just temporarily put this awkwardness behind us? I don’t want it getting in the way of the case.”

He nodded. So, we dropped off our bags at the hotel and waited for a CPS agent to pick us up and take us to the compound. We talked as little as possible the whole ride, and when we did speak, it was only about the case.

We met the leader, Benjamin Cyrus. He fit the profile of a typical cult leader; charismatic, narcissistic, and manipulative.

I took the lead on the interviews of the young girls, Spencer and I agreeing that they might feel more comfortable around me. The girl we suspected made the 911 call, Jessica, was only 15 years old. During the interview, she proudly stated that she was married to Cyrus, the prophet, and had borne his children. Why would a girl who so clearly worshipped him call the cops?

We only had time for that one interview before Cyrus and a few other men busted into the room carrying semi-automatic rifles.

Looking at us, he pondered, “I just got a very strange phone call from a news reporter. Is there anything you want to tell me about a raid?”

Shock washed over Spencer and my face and we both shook our heads no. It was the truth, Hotch wouldn’t send us in here if he knew about a raid.

He took our reactions as genuine, and the men led us and the children down a hatch in the floor and through a tunnel. Just as the hatch closed, I heard gunfire erupting outside.

The tunnel led us to a basement cellar where they held us, not knowing if we would ever leave. I kept my eyes on Spencer the entire time, desperately soaking up the recently distant but still gentle comfort his presence offered me.

I had been with the bureau for four years but had never been in a situation like this. Sure, the academy taught me how to handle hostage situations, but typically I was the one negotiating for other’s release. There was nothing I could do now but rely on the profile of Cyrus I created in my head.

“It’ll be okay, y/n. We’ll get out of here,” he whispered. All of that hostility he previously showed in his eyes when he looked at me was gone. What remained was just the warmth I had grown accustomed to.

I had no idea how much time had passed as Reid and I just sat there on the cold, hard benches hoping we’d get out of there soon. The team had to be here by now. I clung to the idea that they had a plan to get us out of here.

Cyrus and his men marched down the steps, and he demanded, “which one of you is it? Which one is the FBI agent?”

My eyes flashed over to Spencer as he questioned, “why do you think one of us is an FBI agent?”

Cyrus placed his gun on Reid’s forehead. “God will forgive me for what I’m about to do.” Before he pulled the trigger, he asked one final time: “who is it?”

“Me.”

Cyrus yanked the back of my shirt collar and dragged me away. Once separated from Spencer in a different room, he started beating me mercilessly. Punch after punch, kick after slap, throwing me around the room, the weight of my body breaking just about everything I hit.

He quoted a bible verse at me while I repeated “I can take it” between blows. I most definitely could not take it, but I was hoping saying it out loud might help convince myself I could.

Finally, content with the amount of blood streaming down my face, he stopped and left the room.

Every inch of my body ached.

This was worse. Worse than that night strapped down to my dining room table. Worse than the feeling of the blade I had so often wielded while cooking dinner slicing through the skin of my forearms.

It was in this moment, shaking, curled into a ball on the floor, that I thought of another Dickinson poem. Her words always seemed to provide a form of contentment when I needed it most.

"Because I could not stop for death   
He kindly stopped for me;  
The carriage held but just ourselves   
And Immortality."

The poem was called “The Chariot.”

And just as I did that night, I once again wished to be in the alluring embrace of Death, with him in the chariot on my way towards eternity.

\----

I awoke in a bedroom after what I assumed to only be a few hours. It was nighttime now. The mother of Jessica, the girl we interviewed earlier, was wiping the blood off of my face with a washcloth.

“I’ll be right back.” She left to replace the water in the bowl.

I started mumbling repeatedly, “if you can hear me, I know you’re coming. I can try and get the women and children down to the tunnel, but I need to know when you’re coming.” I hoped that by now, Hotch and the rest of the team was outside and had a way to hear what I was saying. I used every ounce of strength I had to lift my foot up to the window above the bed in the hopes they could see where I was.

I saw a red laser hit the wall opposite the window. “Okay, okay, when are you coming?” It flashed three times. They were coming in at 3 a.m.

I heard the woman approaching again and without hesitation, I returned my leg back to the bed. “Someone’s coming.” The laser disappeared.

The mother returned, and I took a leap of faith. “Your daughter didn’t call 911, did she? It was you.”

Those words broke her. Tears fell down her face as she sobbed, “this is all my fault. I-I just wanted to save her from Cyrus, but I was afraid she wouldn’t leave him.”

“I can give you another chance to save her. The FBI is coming here at 3 a.m. and I need you to gather all of the kids, the other women, and get them into the basement just before then.”

She dried her tears as best as she could and walked out of the room without answering me.

I sat there for a while until she burst back into my room sometime later on. “Come on, let’s go,” she helped me stand and walk through the hallways and down the stairs.

“Where’s the man I came in with?” I questioned. 

“He’s down with Cyrus in the chapel,” she said. 

Oh god, please let Spencer know what was about to happen. I didn’t know if I had enough strength to make it to the basement, let alone to find him.

The women, children, and I made it down to the basement where I saw Morgan, Rossi, and members of SWAT. They shuffled them through the door to the outside.

“Where’s Reid?” Morgan asked.

“H-He’s in the chapel with Cyrus,” I stuttered.

“We’ve gotta get you out of here.” Rossi tried pushing me out of the door.

“No. No! We’ve gotta get Reid!” I demanded.

“Y/n, I will get Reid, but you have to get to safety first.” Morgan forced me to leave.

It didn’t feel right to leave without him. I would’ve traded anything just to know that he was out of the compound and safe. But I didn’t have much of a choice. I had to go.

As I stumbled out to the FBI tents, the pain worsening with each step, I instinctively ducked as I heard an explosion come from behind me.

No. 

No. 

No.

I turned to see the chapel engulfed in flames. I fell to the ground on my knees and stared in shock. Spencer was dead. Just like always, the people who I cared about most left me. I couldn’t even cry as I sat and watched the fire overtake the building.

Moments after I accepted my fate, I saw Morgan and Spencer get up from the ground a dozen feet in front of the chapel’s doors.

I limped over to them as I yelled Spencer’s name. He met me halfway, taking me into a tight embrace. Tears of relief started rolling down my face. My whole body hurt, but that only made me hold him tighter, as if his body around mine could heal all of my wounds.

“I thought you were dead, Spence,” I sobbed into his chest.

“No, no, I’m alright. Are you hurt? What did they do to you?”

Without letting go, I leaned back and looked him in the eyes. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

He put his hand on my face, not caring who saw him, and ran his thumb across my cheek to wipe away the tears that were still falling. His soft eyes scanned mine before flicking up to the cuts on my forehead. “Come on, let’s get you to an ambulance.”

Spencer wrapped his arm around my waist and helped me hobble over to an ambulance. He left to talk to Hotch as they cleaned up the gashes on my face. The EMT made me promise to see a doctor once I got back home.

My sense of humor already returning, I looked at Spencer standing at the tents and smiled, “oh don’t worry, I will.”


	8. EIGHT

We left for Quantico the next evening because we had to stay and help the locals tie up the loose ends. Well, the team did. I spent most of the day at the hospital getting checked out. The jet ride was silent as the whole team processed the events of the past 24 hours.

Spencer sat across from me and leaned his head on his palm, closing his eyes.

I moved my leg to touch his under the table. My heart filled with an unnatural warmth as I saw a smile tug at his lips. I knew we still needed to talk about our fight. I don’t know if he had forgiven me – or ever would – but at least he wasn’t ignoring me anymore.

I rested my head back against the seat and stared out the window, letting my mind wander freely.

For the first time in years, I allowed myself to think of a future with another person in it. I imagined what it would be like to be with him. Actually with him. I fantasized about the feeling of his arms wrapped around me as he woke me up in the morning with a kiss to the top of my head. What our wedding would be like, how we would decorate our house, if we would have kids and how many.

I let my dream be just that – a dream. But dreams end when we wake up, and I came careening back down to reality once the jet landed.

Spencer opened his eyes at the sudden shaking as the plane made contact with the runway. He looked at me with a glimmer of hope in his eyes as Hotch instructed all of us to take tomorrow off.

Without saying a word, Spencer and I made our way off the jet and towards the parking garage where my car was. I playfully tossed him my keys as we approached my car. I was on a surprising number of painkillers and figured it was better I didn’t drive just yet.

Despite my almost perfect throw, he fumbled the catch and let them fall through his hands.

We got in my car and I noticeably saw him struggle a bit to depress the clutch and put the car in gear.

“You got it?”

“Yeah, I uh- I’ve never driven a manual car before. I know the theory behind-” The car lurched forward and made a clunking noise as he stalled it.

His face turned bright red with embarrassment, and I burst out laughing.

We made it back to his place in one piece, though the drive was rough. I kind of felt bad for how much pleasure I derived from watching him stall my car over and over.

We walked inside, I dropped my bags on the floor, and sauntered down the hallway to his room. I flopped on the bed and burrowed under his comforter.

Spencer stood in the doorway and watched me snuggle up to his empty side of the bed. “Are you gonna join me or just stand there?” I giggled.

He walked over to the bed and slowly flipped up the corner before sliding under the comforter. I was like an ice cube, melting in the warmth of his arms around me until I was nothing but a puddle.

“Hey, Spence, can we talk?” I nuzzled into his chest. 

“Mhm,” he hummed in response. 

“I-I just wanted to tell you how sorry I am,” I began to apologize.

“I know, you don’t have to tell me.”

“No, listen, I do. I do have to tell you.” I held both sides of his face and looked into his eyes. “Spencer, I’m so unimaginably sorry. I messed up and I never meant to hurt you. If I could take it all back I would, in a heartbeat.”

“I’m sorry too, I was drunk and egged you on. I never should have touched you like that.”

“You know how I do want you to touch me...” I playfully sighed as I changed the subject by rubbing against his leg. I knew that I would pay for it tomorrow, but right now I just needed to feel him.

“No, y/n we can’t.”

“And why’s that?” I started kissing his lips, then continued my path down his jaw and neck, letting my tongue peek through my lips ever so slightly. He tilted his head back so I could reach more of his neck, clearly enjoying the feeling of me leaving little bruises all over him.

“You’re hurt, and I can’t risk hurting you more,” he panted. “There is something I can do, though.”

He rolled me on my back and shifted down between my legs where he slowly unzipped my pants.

“Spence, wait.”

“What? Are you in pain?” He poked his head out from under the covers with a concerned look. “No, it’s just uh... that’s never really... worked.”

“Well, if you’d let me, I’d like to change that.”

“O-Okay, yeah.” I expected to be disappointed but was willing to let him try.

He gave me a dopey grin as he returned under the comforter and finished pulling my pants off. His hands gripped my waist, gently holding me down so I wouldn't move and hurt myself.

I felt him place small kisses up my inner thighs, dancing around the place that was practically already dripping for him. I tried to move my hips in a desperate attempt for more friction, but that only made him hold me down harder.

He licked one large stripe up my slit before spreading me more so he could gain access to every inch of me. He hummed as he rubbed his tongue in little circles against my clit.

“Fuck,” I sighed as I gripped the sheets in my hands. He had barely started but I could already feel my orgasm bubbling inside of me. I wish I could look him in the eyes as his head was between my legs. Note to self: do this above the covers next time.

How was he so good at this? Was every other person I had been with totally incompetent or did they not really care if I enjoyed it?

I threw my head back into the pillows as I chased my release.

I was surprised at the sudden absence of one of his hands on my hips. But, just as I realized that, one finger thrust into me and a second was added soon after, curling slightly with every push inside.

He replaced his tongue with his thumb as he breathed against me “do you like it when I fuck you with my finger?”

I was in my own little world of euphoria but still managed to hear him and moan in response. The feelings grew until I couldn’t handle it anymore. I cried out his name as I came on his fingers.

He continued flicking my clit with his tongue and fingering me through my orgasm, causing my legs to shake from the overstimulation.

He stopped and waited a few moments before gently licking every crevice of me, cleaning up the mess he had so beautifully created. I didn’t know he could be any hotter, but oh boy was I wrong.

He slid back up to the headboard and looked at me through half-lidded eyes.

I reached down and felt the bulge in his pants. “Do you want me to-?” 

“No, I’m okay. I just wanted to make you feel good tonight,” he assured. 

I turned on my side, scanning every inch of his face. I ran my fingers through his hair in a futile attempt to fix it.

“What?” he asked, somewhat thrown off by my current behavior.

“N-Nothing... I’m just happy,” I smiled.

We shared a kiss, and I could taste myself on his lips. It was deep and slow, unlike any other kiss we had before. I tried to show him things I wasn’t yet ready to allow myself to feel. I knew this arrangement had crossed over into something more than just friends with benefits. I wondered if he knew that too.

He ended the kiss with a gentle bite to my bottom lip. His arms wrapped around my back and pulled me closer to him than I thought possible. I think I got my answer. Friends didn’t act like this.

I relaxed into his arms as he whispered, “goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Spence.” He didn’t ask if I was staying over, he already knew. After the last case, we both needed the soothing embrace only the other could provide.

\----

My eyes opened slowly, and I stretched my arms up as high as they could go. I let one fall to the side, expecting to smack Spencer awake. But my hand didn’t hit him; it hit his empty side of the bed. The sheets were cold.

I threw on a crewneck I had in my bag and staggered out to the living room. I followed the smell of brewing coffee into the kitchen, where I saw Spencer pouring himself a cup.

“Morning,” I smiled, uncharacteristically happy for not having any caffeine in my system yet. 

“Good morning, how’d you sleep?”

“Really well, actually. I think I needed it. And thank you for letting me stay over by the way.” 

“You’re welcome any time, y/n,” he said in a hushed tone. “You want some?”

“Ooooh absolutely! You know I’ll never turn down a fresh cup.” He poured me a mug and handed it to me as I continued. “So, we have the day off... and if you don’t already have plans, I’d like to take you somewhere.”

“Okay! Where are we gonna go?” he screeched, excited that I would've planned something for us to do.

“It’s a surprise! And I would not wish any companion in the world but you.” I gave him a devilish grin and walked into the living room.

He quickly followed me, “wha-what does that mean? Is that a quote? Did you just quote Shakespeare at me?”

“Maybe. Guess you’ll just have to wait and see.” I winked at him before walking back to his bedroom to get ready for the day.

\----

Spencer kept up his constant questioning on the car ride there. “Y/n, please, where are we going?”

I answered every question with another quote. “The lady doth protest too much, methinks.” 

“You know I don’t like surprises, c’mon,” he begged. 

“There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” This was too easy. I was having way too much fun getting under his skin.

“Okay, fine. Don’t tell me then,” he pouted in the passenger seat, obviously fed up with my dismissal of his questions.

“The course of true love never did run smooth,” I pointed out as he sighed and stared out the window, refusing to feed into my amusement any longer.

I parked a short walk away. Just as we rounded the corner and the building came into view, I presented, “The Folger Shakespeare Library. In all of its glory.”

“Wow, I-I’ve always wanted to come here, I’ve just never had the time.” His face shined with the excitement of a little kid on Christmas morning.

“It’s a first for both of us.” I held out my hand and led him up the stone steps to the building.

As we walked through the exhibits, he whispered facts about the Folger collection, Shakespeare, different 17th century writers/artists, and other things only someone with an eidetic memory could remember.

We found a bench and sat, needing to give our feet a break from all of the walking. 

“So, why did you bring me here?” he asked.

“I don’t know, I thought you’d enjoy it.” That was only half of the reason. 

“Mmm,” he hummed. 

I hesitated but forced myself to get out one word. I knew that once I said one thing, I would have to continue my thought.

“And-”

He watched me as I looked down at my arms, scratching them out of habit.

I continued in a voice so low I could barely hear myself, “my family used to go to this Shakespeare theatre festival every year. I mean, they did other plays and musicals too, but we would always see at least one by Shakespeare. I just thought it might be nice to come here and see some of his original works.” I still refused to meet his eyes.

I could tell he was shocked by this sudden reveal of something personal about me. Thankfully, he noticed the tragedy expressed in my scrunched face and restless legs and decided not to press me on the details of my family.

Instead, he softly asked “what was your favorite play you saw?”

I didn’t even need to think about my response. “My favorite one by Shakespeare was The Tempest, but I also really loved their performance of To Kill a Mockingbird.” My voice audibly got happier as I chuckled, “To Kill a Mockingbird was so powerful and beautifully performed that by the end, all four of us were in tears along with everyone else in the theater. I-I don’t know why I’m laughing. It was actually really sad.”

He didn’t say anything, instead putting a finger under my chin and raising my head up so I would look at him. His thumb gently brushed my chin as he began to pull me towards him.

Our lips were centimeters away from meeting until a voice blasted on the speakers, stopping us in our tracks.

“Attention visitors, the library will be closing in ten minutes.” The anonymous voice boomed over the speakers, requesting we all make our way towards an exit.

I pressed my forehead against his. “We should probably go, huh.” 

“That’s what the announcement said,” he breathed.

I slowly stood up and took his hand, lacing our fingers together. The sun was setting as we walked back to my car. We had spent the entire day wandering the halls of that historic library. “God, I can’t believe it’s already 7pm. Do you wanna grab something to eat?”

He nodded and we decided on takeout from my favorite Indian restaurant. I ran through all of the events of the day and had no idea how so much time had passed. I thought about our almost-kiss and the cruel timing of that damn announcement.

In a desperate attempt to make up for the touch I missed out on earlier, I asked “do you wanna help me shift?”

He stared back with a confused face.

“Sorry, it’s dumb, forget I asked.” I could feel my face heat up with embarrassment. This was a move guys tried to pull on me in high school, and I couldn’t believe I was here trying it on him. It was so cringey that I always refused, so I don’t know why I expected anything else from Spencer.

“No, what do you want me to do?”

I couldn’t hide my smile as I took his hand and placed it on the shift knob, lightly resting mine on top of his. We sat in comforting silence, the radio softly playing a song by the Arctic Monkeys as I guided our hands through shifting gears.

I would have been perfectly content to keep driving like that forever until we ran out of gas or pavement.


	9. NINE

“Do you need help cleaning up?” I asked Spencer as we finished eating our takeout. The day had been perfect so far, spending all of it existing together out in the world without fear of consequences. I could only assume where our night was headed.

“No. Take off your clothes and wait for me on my bed,” he growled.

I was caught off guard from the sudden shift in tone from the lighthearted dinner conversation. But who was I to say no to his demand?

I didn’t even respond as I immediately drifted down the hallway, feeling his eyes bore through my body as he watched me walk away.

I stripped down to nothing – he had already seen my scars so there was no sense in hiding them anymore – and laid on his bed.

A few minutes later he came into the room and stood at the foot of his bed, taking in the sight of me lying there naked. “What do you want me to do to you?”

“W-What do you mean?” I hesitated.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you.”

“I want you to... fuck me,” I whispered timidly.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you. Speak up.”

“I want you to fuck me!” I yelled it this time.

The corners of his lips curled up into a smile as he crawled on the bed over top of me. “If you insist.”

I had no idea where this was coming from. Maybe he was just letting out all of the energy that accumulated from not touching me how he really wanted to for over a week.

He grabbed both of my wrists and pressed them into the pillows above my head. “Tell me to stop if I start to hurt you, but I don’t want you to touch me unless I tell you to.”

I felt fire course through my veins at the order. I liked this side of him.

Our lips crashed against each other’s without hesitation. He nibbled at my bottom lip before deepening the kiss and sliding his tongue further into my mouth.

His lips started on a path down my neck, stopping to bite softly at my tender skin, surely leaving marks in his wake. He continued down, gliding his tongue along my collarbone.

His mouth finally made it down to my breasts, taking one in his mouth and sucking on it. As his tongue flicked over my hard nipple, his hand took my other one, dwarfing it in his large hands, and gently twisted it between two of his fingers.

I struggled to not run my fingers through his hair as my legs instinctively hooked around his waist, desperately needing to rub against something.

Spencer stopped.

“I’m sorry,” I released my legs and let them fall limp to the bed.

He immediately resumed sucking on my nipple while one of his hands dragged down my stomach to where I needed to feel him. He rubbed painstakingly slow circles on my clit, causing my to groan and buck my hips at the stimulation.

He gradually increased the pace and the pressure before slipping two fingers inside of me. “Fuck, you’re so wet.” His lips came back down to meet mine with the same fervor as before.

I reached my climax instantly, moaning into his mouth as he continued finger-fucking me through my orgasm. He removed his fingers and ran them along my bottom lip. I opened my mouth and took them between my lips. I swirled my tongue around his two fingers, tasting myself on him. He let out a small moan and removed them, a string of spit falling against my chin.

Content, he got off the bed, leaving me vulnerable and panting. I watched him as he took his time undressing. “You’re still not allowed to touch me,” he taunted. He knew exactly what he was doing.

He wasted no time situating himself between my legs once again. He pumped his hard dick a few times before raising one of my legs to rest on his shoulder granting him the perfect angle to begin thrusting into me.

We hadn’t had sex in a while, so I let out a little yelp at the feeling of him stretching me. My body was still sore from two days ago, but the pain was quickly replaced with pleasure when one of his hands wrapped around my thigh as he continued to pound into me.

“Please, Spence” I begged. “Please what?”

“Let me touch you,” I sighed.

“Fine.” He dropped my leg and collapsed onto my chest, allowing me to grab his head and pull him in for a sloppy kiss. The heat was growing in my abdomen as I neared my second orgasm of the night.

He buried his face in my neck and groaned, mumbling “I-I’m so close.”

“Cum with me, Spencer.” I whispered into his shoulder.

We both came at the same time while each crying out the other’s name. Spencer planted soft kisses on my neck as we laid there for a few minutes afterwards. This was the sweatiest I had ever been after one of our sessions, and I felt kind of embarrassed until I saw him, just as sweaty and out of breath as me.

We rolled onto our sides to face each other. He was so beautiful like this; sweat plastering chunks of his hair to his face, cheeks bright red, eyes half-lidded from exhaustion. I studied every inch of him, basking in the sunlight he radiated just by existing.

“I need to shower. Would you like to join?” he asked.

Without a word, I hopped off the bed and headed to the bathroom, him following shortly behind.

He turned on a hot shower and we both stepped in. I stood under the water first, tilting my head back to wet my hair. He lathered some of his shampoo in his hands and massaged my scalp. It smelled exactly like him, and for a while, I would smell exactly like him, too. A smile pulled at my mouth and I closed my eyes as he leaned my head back to rinse my hair. He repeated the process with the conditioner. He went to grab his body wash, but I interjected “you don’t have to do that.”

“Please,” he pleaded.

I let my silence speak for itself.

He started with my shoulders, running his hands down my arms, taking special care to lightly graze over my scars. It was now that we both realized the extent of my injuries. Nothing hurt too bad on account of the painkillers I was still on, but there were purple and blue bruises covering my entire body. I forced myself to focus on the man standing in front of me rather than the cause of those bruises; I didn’t want anything to ruin this moment.

His hands ran down my chest and torso before turning me to face the water. I relished in the way his arms wrapped around me the small kisses he planted on my neck as we switched positions.

I took my time cleaning him. I never wanted to forget what his soapy hair felt like between my fingers, or the way he relaxed into my touch as I dragged my hands all over his body.

Just as with everything Spencer and I did together, I never wanted this to end. I slowly let those dreams I had on the jet creep into my reality. Both of us had blatantly broken the second rule – no feelings allowed. It had been apparent since the Anthrax case and our big blowout fight at O’Keefe’s. Were we really that naïve that we thought we could do this without it getting messy?

With nothing left to do in the shower except stand under the water, we both got out. Spencer wrapped a towel around his waist. “Hold on, I’ll go get you a towel.”

I stood there, dripping wet, increasingly aware of how cold the bathroom felt compared to the water.

“Here,” he handed me the towel.

Before I got the chance to thank him, his phone rang in the other room. I expected it to be Hotch calling us in for another case, so I hurriedly dried myself off and went to find some clothes. Thank god I still had my go bag here.

But, just as Spencer saw me enter his bedroom, he left. That was odd. It couldn’t have been Hotch if he didn’t want me to overhear the conversation. I wondered who would be calling him this late, but I figured it was none of my business.

Nevertheless, I found my bag and put on some pajamas. No call from Hotch meant I could get comfortable, so I got into bed and snuggled under the covers. I giggled to myself as I laid there and thought about my current reality. I was here, in his bed, smelling like him, and he would be back to join me any minute.

Spencer returned a few minutes later with a distraught look on his face, wiping the tears that were streaming down his cheeks with the back of his hands.

“Spence, what’s wrong? Who was that?” Concerned, I sat up. 

“No one. You should go,” he said abruptly.

“Why? Tell me what’s going on.” I stood up and walked over to him, trying my best to comfort him with my touch.

“I told you to leave. Now.” His rage grew with every word as he threw my hands off of his arms. The only other time I had seen him like this was during our fight.

I crossed my arms. “No. I’m not gonna leave until you tell me why you’re acting like this and let me help you.”

“I don’t need your fucking help, y/n!” He grabbed my go bag in one hand and my wrist in the other, practically dragging me through his apartment.

Tears started forming in my eyes. “Spencer, wait, please, just talk to me.”

He threw open the front door and pushed me out, only waiting long enough for me to turn around and look at him, tears rushing down both of our faces, before slamming the door in my face.

I didn’t move, still in shock. Everything was great and then all of the sudden he gets a phone call and throws me out? He didn’t even give me my fucking shoes.

Barefoot and beaten down, I barely made it to my car before sobbing. I drove home in silence, replaying everything leading up to his outburst, trying to find a reason why he would act that way. Again, I seemed to just be a convenient target for his anger.

\----

Spencer was late to work. I met him at his desk as he put down his messenger bag and sat in his chair. The bags and dark circles under his eyes were as prominent as they had been in weeks. He obviously didn’t sleep much, if at all.

“Hey, can we talk?” I quietly proposed, leaning on his desk.

“No, thanks,” his tone warned me not to continue, but I did anyways.

“Then can you please just tell me why you threw me out last night and I’ll leave you alone?” 

“How about I go get a cup of coffee and you leave me alone.” He wasn’t giving in.

“Fine, don’t tell me, whatever, but at least give me back my fucking shoes.” My whisper was raising in volume with every word. If I wasn’t careful, someone would overhear our conversation.

His eyes shot to mine – he didn’t know that he had them. Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked back over to my desk.

Lunchtime came, and without the prospect of eating with my favorite chess tutor, I resorted to my second-best option of eating with Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia.

“Not eating with boy wonder, today y/n?” Penelope questioned me as I sat down. 

“Nope. Not today.” I tried my best to flash an innocuous smile.

“Speaking of Spence, I’ve been kind of worried about him lately. He’s been really secretive and gets all defensive anytime I ask him how he is,” JJ added.

“I’ve noticed that too.” Emily continued, “I hate to say it, but do you think he could be... using again?”

“He told me he’s been sober for months,” I confessed.

“And maybe he had been when he told you that. I’m just saying that recovering from addiction isn’t a straight line, and I’ve seen people who were sober for years relapse and end up in a worse place than they were before.”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” I mumbled. That was the end of that conversation, switching to more lighthearted topics like random FBI gossip and what everyone had planned for the weekend.

Garcia suggested, “if we aren’t on a case, what do you ladies say to a girl’s night on Saturday?” 

“Always!” JJ agreed, continuing “do you have any ideas?”

“Actually, I was thinking we could go to a drag bar and get y/n over here out of her comfort zone,” she giggled.

“Hey! I’ll have you know I frequently went to a drag bar back in Kansas!”

“Ohhh, okay, y/n. Sure.” She didn’t believe me, but I figured no matter how much I tried to  
convince her, she wouldn’t change her mind.

Lunch was over and we all went back to work. I didn’t get much done that afternoon, spending most of my time thinking about and looking at Spencer from across the room.


	10. TEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: drug overdose

Saturday was here and we weren’t on case, meaning I was going to meet the girls at the bar as soon as I finished getting ready. My face was still bruised, but it was nothing a little denial mixed with concealer couldn’t fix.

I had never actually hung out with the women of the team without Morgan. He just seemed to materialize wherever Penelope went, especially when alcohol and dancing was involved.

But tonight, it was just us. At the bar, we sat at a high-top table, giant fruity drinks in our hands, laughing our asses off. I was having so much fun despite the slight twinge of regret that it took me so long to join them on a girl’s night.

During a lull in the conversation, my mind drifted to Spencer. Likely due to all of the practice, he had become skilled in the art of dodging me. I knew that my constant bothering wouldn’t help the situation, so I tried to give him as much space as possible in the hopes he would get over whatever it was that was bothering him. I reached into my purse and pulled out my phone.

Three missed calls. All from Spencer.

I excused myself to the bathroom, calling him on the way. He answered but didn’t say anything.

“Spencer? Is everything alright?”

“Y/n... I... I messed up. Bad.” I could barely hear him on the other end of the line between the loud music in the bar and his shallow breathing directly into the microphone.

“What’d you do?”

“Can you just... can you just please come over,” his words slurred together, and I started to get worried.

“Yeah, I’ll be over soon.” I left the little area outside of the bathrooms and walked back over to JJ, Prentiss, and Garcia. “Well, ladies, I think it’s about time I call it a night.”

“Party pooper! Stay for a little bit longer!” Garcia begged.

“I’m sorry, I really can’t. I’ll see all of you on Monday!” I walked away as fast as I could so they wouldn’t have time to ask why I was leaving in such a hurry.

I jumped in an Uber and went to Spencer’s. When I knocked on his door, he didn’t answer. The anxiety started building in my chest. I knocked again. Still no answer.

The door was unlocked, so I walked in, announcing myself as I dropped my purse on the couch. I still didn’t hear anything. Why would he tell me to come over and then disappear? I checked the kitchen – maybe he was cooking and didn’t hear me?

Still no sign of Spencer.

It wasn’t until I found him sitting on the floor of his bathroom, head thrown back, eyes barely opened, that I put together the pieces: the erratic behavior, defensiveness and lashing out combined with his slurred words from earlier, “I messed up.” My eyes raked over his body and saw tiny bruises up and down his forearms.

He was using again. Prentiss was right.

“Spencer!” I shouted. “Spencer wait, stay awake please don’t go to sleep!” I shook his shoulders as I whipped out my phone from my back pocket, dialing 911.

“911 what is your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance. My friend is overdosing on...” I scrambled to find whatever it was he used. “...Hydromorphone, he’s overdosing on hydromorphone please send help quick.”

“Y/n... I’m... sorry,” Spencer breathed out as his eyes rolled back into his head.

“No, Spence, don’t apologize, you’re gonna be alright. Help is on the way, just please stay with me.”

'We never know we go, - when we are going   
We jest and shut the door;  
Fate following behind us bolts it,  
And we accost no more.'

Tears streamed down my face as I held him on his bathroom floor, the life drifting out of his body. I begged the universe to please, not let Spencer close that door. In my life, the universe tended to be a cruel bastard, but I probably deserved what it gave me. Spencer didn’t, though. He was the kindest person I ever knew.

The paramedics burst through the door and found me huddled over his limp body. I stood out of the way; my legs barely able to support my weight. I looked down at my hands through my blurry, tear filled vision, and watched them tremble violently.

They lifted him up onto the stretcher and rushed him outside, me practically stepping on their heels on the way. The sirens blared as I held his hand in the back of the ambulance. He still hadn’t woken up.

Then, I heard the heart monitor flat line.

“Ma’am, you need to let go of him,” the paramedic demanded as she rushed to ready the paddles to shock him. “Clear!” His body convulsed. “Charge again!” They shocked him a second time, his heart resuming a normal rhythm.

His eyes opened and he looked all around the ambulance, obviously scared and without a clue of what was happening.

I took his hand again and interlaced our fingers. “Hey, it’s okay, you’re gonna be okay, I’m right here.”

His eyes closed again, and he didn’t respond.

\----

“Y/n.”

I opened my eyes to see Spencer looking at me. I rubbed my neck as I sat up straight in the crappy hospital chair I had fallen asleep in.

“Hey, you’re awake,” I mumbled. “How’re you feeling?”

“All things considered, not too great,” he let out a hoarse chuckle.

I’m glad that his sense of humor wasn’t completely gone.

“Here, uh- do you want some water? The doctors said you’ll start going through withdrawal soon, so you need to stay hydrated.”

He nodded, so I stood up and held the cup of water near his face. He bit the bendy straw and took a few sips before releasing it. He rested his head on the pillow and studied my face, almost as if he had forgotten what it looked like.

I held my hand to the side of his face, trying to provide him what little comfort I could. He leaned into my touch as I whispered, “you don’t have to tell me anything about before. Just, thank you for calling me when you did.”

“Thank you for coming.” His eyes drooped shut as he got the rest he desperately needed.

Spencer wasn’t going to be getting out of here anytime soon and I wanted to be with him the entire time – assuming he’d have me. Me being by his side while he was going through this was just sort of implied. So, I pressed ‘1’ on speed dial and waited for an answer.

“SSA Hotchner.”

“Hey, Hotch, it’s y/n. Spencer caught some intestinal bug and he’s at the hospital right now. He doesn’t uh- he doesn’t really have anyone else, so I’m going to stay here with him until he’s feeling better.” Thank god I was having this conversation over the phone because Hotch would’ve sniffed out my lie immediately. There was no hiding from the master profiler himself.

“I’m sorry to hear that, tell him I hope he feels better soon. I hate to ask, but do you know when you’ll be back? We were going to leave on a new case this afternoon.”

“No, sorry, he’s in pretty rough shape so it’ll probably be a few days.” 

“Alright, thanks for letting me know, keep me updated on his condition.” I ended the call and walked back into Spencer’s room.

Saying that the next few days were hard would be an understatement. Spencer barely slept and threw up basically anything he tried to eat. I did my best to stay by his side the entire time through the extreme mood swings that accompanied his withdrawal.

On the morning of his discharge, he was visibly better. The sweating and nausea had subsided, and the dark circles under his eyes were lighter.

We were both reading our books quietly when he interrupted, “hey, y/n? Can you do me a favor?”

“Lay it on me.”

“Before I get discharged later can you go back to my apartment and dump out all of the bottles? There’s uh- three of them in the top drawer of my desk.” His voice was laced with shame.

“Of course.” And so that’s what I did. I dumped out all three bottles, collected any needles I could find, and threw all of it away in a trashcan outside of his apartment.

\----

I wrapped an arm around Spencer’s waist as we walked up the stairs to his apartment. I unlocked the door and he immediately hobbled to his bedroom and burrowed under the covers.

I poked my head in and asked “are you hungry? I can make us some dinner if you feel like eating.”

“I could eat, but I don’t think I really have anything.”

“Oh, I’m sure I can find something!” I cheered and went to the kitchen.

He wasn’t lying. There was nothing in the fridge except some butter, a half-eaten jar of pickles, and some sriracha. How anyone could live like this, I don’t know. I went to check the freezer next, and to my surprise, I found a frozen pizza. Perfect. I preheated the oven and unboxed it. It was only a little freezer burnt, but still edible in my very experienced opinion.

I brought the cooked pizza to his room and he perked up at the scent. I sat down and bragged, “I told you so!”

We started eating as I eyed my shoes in the corner of his room. I had totally forgotten they were still here or else I would’ve grabbed them when I stopped earlier in the day. “Hey, there’s my shoes, asshole,” I quipped, motioning towards them.

The look of horror and guilt on his face didn’t dissipate after I explained that I was kidding.

He looked down at his slice. “I’m sorry, y/n, that I put you through this. That you missed work to take care of me because I can’t handle taking care of myself.”

“No, please don’t apologize.” I put my finger under his chin and tilted his head up to look at me. “This wasn’t your fault. None of this will ever be your fault. Do you understand me?”

“Yes.” He nodded his head and I pulled back my hand so I could grab another piece of pizza. “I still shouldn’t have treated you like that. I just- the facility my mom is at called and said she’s getting worse. None of the drug combinations I suggested are working. I just feel so helpless all the time, and I took my anger out on you. I am sorry for that.”

A tear rolled down his face. “You know, I always thought I would have cured Schizophrenia by the time I was 25. I never even considered the possibility of her developing Alzheimer’s as well.”

I put the pizza on the nightstand and enveloped him in a hug, which only made him cry harder into my shirt. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing the best you can and I’m proud of you for it.”

I laid us back on the bed as he curled up further into my body, resting his head on my chest. I ran my fingers through his hair in an attempt to calm him. Though he was home and feeling better, I knew this fight would never be over. He would always blame himself for his downfalls, and as much as I tried, I don’t know if I could ever convince him he was wrong.

He eventually quieted down, presumably falling asleep. It didn’t take me long to follow suit. I dreamt of nothing that night as I held him in my arms.


	11. ELEVEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: graphic case description, blood

I slipped out of bed early the next morning to get ready for work. I gave Spencer a gentle goodbye kiss on his forehead, trying my best not to wake him from the slumber he so desperately needed.

His eyes fluttered open and he groaned, “do you have to leave yet?” 

“Yeah, I have to get to work,” I sighed.

“Please stay, just 5 more minutes,” he pleaded, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the back of his hands.

He didn’t ask for, nor did he want my pity. He just wanted to exist in the same space as me. “Alright, fine. But only 5 minutes or else I’ll be late,” I conceded with barely any convincing.

We both smiled as he grabbed my arm and pulled me on top of him, kissing me intensely as if that one kiss would make me throw off my responsibilities and stay in bed with him all day. I really wished I could. I wanted to be able to experience that domestic fantasy I had scarcely let myself explore previously.

But we had another case and I had already taken off too much time without being the one who was actually sick, so I had to leave. Spencer could swing another couple of days, or at least until we got back from wherever we were traveling this time.

“I gotta go, Spence,” I mumbled as he trailed kisses down my neck, leaving little purple bruises in his wake. His lips disconnected from my neck, and I placed a small kiss on his lips, jumping off of the bed before he had another chance to pull me back in. I don’t know if I’d be able to resist, that time.

I parked in my usual spot in the parking garage and checked appearance in the mirror. Thankfully, my makeup was barely affected, and the hickies on my neck so small that my hair would hide them. Content with how I looked, I walked upstairs.

I arrived through the glass doors of the BAU to an assault of questions. “How’s the kid, y/l/n?” Morgan got to me first.

“He’s doing better. They have him on all sorts of antibiotics, and they finally seem to be working, which is good.” I was in a room full of profilers, but I still hoped they wouldn’t pick up on my lie.

“I feel bad, we would’ve come to see him, but we just got back from a case last night,” JJ apologized.

“Yeah, no worries. He knows you guys would’ve been there if you could’ve.” I gave JJ my most reassuring smile.

Eager to avoid any other questions, I went and settled at my desk. Noticing me alone, Emily walked over and asked, “is that where you went Saturday?”

I hesitated, “uh- yeah, actually. He couldn’t leave his place and needed a couple things from the drug store.” Another half lie. Damn, I was getting good at that.

“Conference room, now,” Hotch ordered from the balcony before walking into the room. “Reid won’t be joining us, he’s still out sick. Garcia?” He motioned to her to start presenting the case as we all entered and took our usual seats.

“Well, hello my fabulous furry friends! I wish I had happier news for you this morning, but alas, that is not in our job description.” She took a brief pause to set up the graphics on the monitor behind her. “Two families have been killed in the suburbs of Chicago over the last week. Both parents and the kids all had their throats slashed. The second family was just killed last night.” She clicked through the gruesome crime scene photos. “There were no signs of forced entry to the house.”

“Was there a connection between the families?” Morgan asked.

“I’ve found bubkis, but I’ll keep looking just for you, hot stuff,” she winked at him in her bubbly, flirtatious manner.

Hotch raised his eyebrows and announced, “alright everyone, you know the drill. Wheels up in 30.”

On the jet, my mind drifted to Spencer. I hoped he was alright. I felt guilty for having to leave him this soon. I had always wished that there was someone there for me when I was at my lowest point, and I just wanted to be that person for him.

“Y/l/n?” Hotch raised his voice to snap me out of my thoughts and grab my attention. 

“Mhm?” I slowly came back to reality to find everyone’s eyes on me.

“You and Prentiss go to the crime scene and find out what you can before they move the bodies. Rossi, Morgan, JJ and I will go to the local PD and set up,” he ordered in his ever-stoic manner. I haven’t known him for that long – hell I barely know him now – but I do know that he almost never smiles.

With the end of the conversation, I returned to my worrying about Spencer. I knew I couldn’t do anything to help him right now except finishing this case as fast as possible, but that didn’t lessen any of the guilt I felt about leaving.

Prentiss and I arrived at the scene of the most recent murders about an hour later. The downstairs level of the house was completely undisturbed. Not a single pillow left unfluffed or book not placed in its correct spot on the shelf.

“Well, it doesn’t look like the unsub took anything. The M.O. must be personal, not monetary.” I pondered.

We both made our way upstairs to where the bodies were. I walked into the master bedroom and saw both parents laying on the bed, throats slashed from ear to ear, bathing in pools of their own blood. There was a vase of still fresh roses next to the bed. I cautiously approached the roses and saw a note: “Happy Anniversary, dear. I love you.” From the husband, to his wife, both laying completely void of life to my left.

I turned to look at the bodies and, in that moment, all of the intrusive thoughts I had so effectively compartmentalized came rushing to the forefront. I looked down at my body, but I wasn’t in my suit and sneakers anymore. I was in my pajamas.

Confused by my changed appearance, I raised my arms to get a better look at myself. But, instead of finding the slightly raised, slightly discolored scars that I had grown accustomed to, I saw fresh wounds dripping with blood. I tried to apply pressure to them in hopes to stop the bleeding, but when I pressed down, there were no cuts. It was only blood. A deep crimson to match the flowers, enough puddling around my feet to fill an Olympic sized swimming pool.

I slowly turned my head to look into the dresser mirror across the room. I didn’t see myself, instead only the ghost of a girl. Sure, she sort of resembled me, but the girl who stared back at me had different eyes. They were still green and sort of blue, but softer and more innocent, like she hadn’t seen the horrible things I had.

In stark contrast with her gentle, almost angelic eyes, her mouth was tugged up into a devilish grin like she knew something I didn’t. Something I would never figure out.

The next thing I knew, I was lying on my back, hearing Prentiss’ worried voice and trembling hands shaking me awake. “Hey y/n, are you okay?”

“What happened?” I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

“You fainted. Here, can you stand?” She gave me her hand to grab as she helped me stand. “C’mon, you should go back to the hotel for the day and rest. I’ll take you.”

“No, I’m fine, really. Let’s just go to the station,” I insisted. 

\----

I didn’t get back to my hotel room until a bit after 12am. Garcia had figured out that the mother of each family had attended the same spin class a month ago. We weren’t quite sure what that meant yet but decided to break for the night anyways.

I did my bare minimum nightly routine and climbed into bed. 12:43am. I was exhausted from the emotional turmoil of the day, but I still couldn’t fall asleep. I actually don’t know if I ever did. It felt like I was just lying there awake the entire night.

I rolled out of bed at 7am feeling worse than when I got in. Sitting on the edge of the bed, trying to prolong standing for as long as possible, I checked my phone and saw a text from Spencer.

SPENCER: How’s the case?

ME: It’s alright, don’t have any leads yet. How’re you??

I was fully ready to set my phone down and not hear from him for a couple hours at least, but he responded immediately.

SPENCER: I’m okay. I went to a meeting last night. I think I’ll be able to come back to work soon.

ME: That’s good! I’m so proud of you. Everyone here misses you a lot.

I actually set my phone down this time and got ready for work, putting on my usual outfit of slacks and a button down with some sneakers. I didn’t want to tell him about the whole fainting thing, because one, it wasn’t a big deal, and two, he already had enough on his plate without worrying about me too. I knew Emily wouldn’t say anything, either.

I kept my head down and worked the rest of the case. I knew if I focused too much on anything other than the unsub, I’d break. Worse than just hallucinations.

We narrowed down the list of suspects from the spin class to one woman. Her husband and teenaged children had all died in a car accident, but she miraculously survived. The one-year anniversary of their deaths was the stressor that led her to kill families similar to how hers once was. Rossi and Prentiss successfully arrested her without her harming herself or anyone else in the process.

I sat across from Emily on the jet ride back to Virginia. “Are you okay?” She whispered to me quietly enough so no one else would hear her.

“Yeah, I will be. Just tired, I think,” I smiled.

“Well, if you ever want to talk about what’s actually bugging you, I’m always around. Even if you just want to hang out and not talk, I’m here,” she reassured me.

Thank god for Emily Prentiss. I still wasn’t ready to tell anyone on the team why this case had affected me especially hard, but it was nice to know I could. I knew she was telling me the truth; I could go to her for help at any time – day or night – and she’d be there to listen.

I got home to my empty apartment and it felt lonelier than usual. I always thought that I would be alone forever, and I was content with that. It was the safe option. No one could hurt me if I never let them get close to me, right? But standing here now, in the wake of a case that caused me to hallucinate again for the first time in years, that future didn’t have the same appeal it used to.

Instead of reaching out to Spencer or Emily for the help I knew I needed, I chose my usual tactic and rubbed salt in the emotional wound.

I plopped down on the couch, not even bothering to change into pajamas first. I flicked on the TV and started watching Twilight. Most of the time, that movie made me happy and reminded me of all the good memories growing up: my dad taking my brother and I for drives in his old pickup truck down dirt country roads, and the annual family baseball game that never failed to devolve into fits of laughter.

But I was not in that headspace tonight. Tonight, it only reminded me of the bad memories, not the good ones I craved. The thoughts that I would never drive among the corn fields and cows with my dad or watch my extremely uncoordinated mom strike out while batting rushed around my head at a dizzying rate.

The isolation of my apartment soon became too much for me to handle. Tears pricked my eyes as I dialed the number of the only person I knew would understand my loneliness.

“Hey, y/n! How was the end the of the case?” Spencer and I hadn’t talked since our texts a couple days ago.

“Spence... can you uh- can you just come over? Please?” I whimpered into my phone.

“What’s wrong? I’ll be over soon.” I heard him shuffling on the other end  
of the line.

“I j-just can’t be alone right now. T-Thank you.” I waited for him to get here, the tears ebbing and flowing when they so chose. I was hiding my apartment from him for so long, afraid to let him see the unfiltered version of me. Tonight, I just needed him to hold me. It didn’t matter where.

Not 20 minutes later, he knocked on my door. I answered it looking like a mess – bloodshot eyes, puffy faced, and still in my full work attire. “Oh no, y/n.” I’m thankful that he didn’t ask how I was, but instead just wrapped his arms around me in a tight hug. He leaned down and kissed the top of my head, only causing my tears to increase.

\----

(Spencer's POV)

The withdrawal symptoms were almost all gone. I had spent most of my days since y/n left just lying in my bed reading, trying to distract from my overwhelming boredom and cravings.

Though the physical signs of my recent relapse were dissipating, the emotional and mental ones stuck around. I knew that this would be a lifelong battle that I would lose a couple times along the way, but that didn’t stop the less rational part of myself from feeling ashamed. Ashamed that y/n had had to find me, ashamed that I couldn’t seem to do anything on my own anymore, ashamed that I had failed in almost every aspect of my life.

But all that mattered now was that I was sober, and I was alive. The urges were still there – they always would be – but I was managing them by going to meetings whenever they became too much, or when I could muster the energy to leave my apartment.

Interrupting me from my third time trying to read this one page, my phone buzzed on my nightstand. It was y/n. That likely meant she was back home, finally.

I answered it, probably a little too eager for my own good. I heard the cracks in her voice as she mumbled asking me to come over. I jumped up and threw on my shoes before she could even finish her sentence. I grabbed the keys to the car I hadn’t driven in months and started driving, hoping it was in the right direction until she could text me her address.

I finally made it there, and ran up the steps outside, taking two at a time. I knocked on her door and she answered a few seconds later. I felt a lump form in my throat. She wasn’t crying at the moment, but her cheeks were still red and wet with tears.

“Oh, y/n,” I whispered as I wrapped her in my arms, tenderly kissing the top of her head. That only seemed to make her start crying more. “Shhh, y/n it’s okay. Here, let’s go sit down.”

She didn’t release her arms from around my back, but nevertheless I shuffled us over to the couch and sat us down. “Are you watching Twilight?” I thought that distracting her might ease the crying so that she’d tell me what’s really wrong.

“Yes,” she chuckled as she untangled her arms and sat back on the couch. “It’s my comfort movie, but uh... it’s obviously not really working tonight...” Her hand grabbed mine and interlaced our fingers, keeping her eyes trained down at our hands while she studied the way they looked wrapped up together.

I couldn’t take my eyes off of hers, still avoiding mine, as I tried to think of a way to diminish the pain held behind them. It didn’t matter what was plaguing her mind; she didn’t seem to want to talk about it, so I didn’t press.

I wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks with my thumb and brushed a few loose hairs out of her face. “How can I help you?” I would’ve done anything she asked of me.

“Can you just hold me for a while?” She whispered so quietly I could barely hear her over the sounds of the TV.

“Come here.” I reached my arm out and she collapsed onto my chest. I laid us down on the couch and ran my fingers through her hair as I held her.

I had never actually been here before. In the months since we started our arrangement, we had only ever been to my place. I had done everything short of beg on my hands and knees to be able to see where she lived. I wasn’t happy about why I was here right now, but I was glad to finally be here.

There wasn’t an inch of empty wall space. They were all covered in artwork or bookcases or concert posters to bands that I admittedly had never heard of. I immediately recognized some of the pieces to be by Wassily Kandinsky – I had a book on some of his most famous paintings, and I caught y/n looking at it the first night she saw my apartment. He must be one of her favorites.

The cleanliness of her place rivaled my own, not a speck of dust or semblance of dirt anywhere. But there were also no overly personal things here. No pictures of her family or friends. To be fair, I didn’t have any pictures of my family either, but I only really had my mom, and I saw my only friends every day at work. Maybe she was the same.

It wasn’t long before I felt her breathing slow to a consistent pace as she fell asleep. If she wanted to tell me why she called me sobbing, she would. I squeezed her shoulder as if to say goodnight before closing my eyes to the sound of “Clair de Lune” playing in the movie.


	12. TWELVE

I woke up under a blanket, alone, on the couch. Did I – or we – really sleep out here? I was overwhelmed with embarrassment at my vulnerability from the night before. Mixed with that embarrassment was a feeling of relief that I had finally allowed Spencer to see where I lived, where I spent almost all of my free time. My apartment symbolized the happiest parts of me. It was my refuge.

That metaphorical wall had finally crumbled, and I left no regret in the rubble. However, one more wall – the biggest of them all – still remained.

I heard the closing of cupboards and drawers coming from my kitchen. I found him in there, making a pot of coffee. This vision before me was so utterly domestic. It looked like he belonged here.

Leaning against the doorway watching him search for mugs, I promised myself that one day, hopefully soon, I would give him a sledgehammer so that together we could tear down the last one.

“Morning, Spence,” I smiled, trying not to startle him.

“Good morning! How’re you feeling?” He was especially cheery for it being so early in the morning.

“I’m better. And uh- thank you for coming over last night, too.”

“Do you wanna tell me what happened?” He looked over at me with such an innocent, hopeful expression. The second I tell him the truth; I know that’ll change. Selfishly, I don’t want to be the one to cause his face to darken under the weight of my words. Not this morning, at least. I just wanted to pretend it didn’t exist this morning.

“Not really. N-Not right now, at least. But I will eventually. I promise.” He handed me a mug full of coffee and we just stood in silence for a while as we both sipped on the hot liquid.

I’m thankful that he seemed to just accept what I told him without resistance. It wasn’t fair that I had forced him to come over and sleep on my tiny couch without so little as an explanation to why. Just as I would do anything for him, he seemed willing to do that and more for me.

Having driven here himself last night, he left after finishing his coffee so he could stop back home before work. Today was going to be his first day back.

\----

I looked up from the files in front of me just as Spencer walked through the glass doors. He was immediately squashed in a hug from Garcia that was so tight I thought he might pop.

“Welcome back, pretty boy. We missed ya.” I heard Morgan say as he patted his shoulder.

I remained at my desk as I watched them chat and catch him up on the goings-on of the BAU from when he was gone. While JJ was talking, his eyes flashed over to me and he smiled a silent greeting from across the bullpen. Butterflies erupted in my stomach as I blushed and smiled back. I had literally just seen him an hour ago after he spent the night holding me in his arms. Why did he suddenly make me so nervous?

Luckily, we didn’t have a case today. I couldn’t have been happier by the time lunch rolled around. I was so excited to finally get to spend it with my favorite genius.

“Alright, let’s get it going,” I motioned to the miniature chess set on his desk as I fell down into a chair and unpacked my lunch.

He smiled and set his work aside. “Are you actually going to try and play, though?”

I feigned surprise as I responded with as much innocence as I could muster. “Dr. Spencer Reid, are you suggesting I’m not trying to learn what you’re so generously spending your lunch breaks to teach me?”

“Yes, actually,” his eyes flashed up to look at mine briefly as he set up the pieces on the board. I wonder if he knows that I don’t even know the names of the pieces, let alone where they go on the checkered board.

“Hmm. Maybe you are as smart as you claim to be.” I giggled and took a bite of the sandwich I packed.

We spent the next 30 minutes laughing so hard our stomachs hurt. It had been so long since I had been this happy, even if it was going to end the second I went back to my desk after lunch. I think that just made me appreciate it more.

Occasionally, I noticed Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia look in our direction. They had to have been talking about us. I decided to shut those thoughts out, not wanting to ruin these sunny, carefree moments Spencer and I had together.

I barely worked at all that afternoon. I felt like a stupid teenager with a crush, unable to think about anything other than Spencer. I just sat at my desk, head resting in my palm, watching him work across the room. I didn’t even try to hide the dopey look on my face as I did it. I watched his slender fingers grip the pen he used to write, his eyebrows furrow in thought, his tongue peek out of his mouth ever so slightly to lick his lips every couple of minutes.

At one point, our eyes met before I had a chance to look away and pretend to be working. He caught me. He raised his eyebrows and glanced down at the piles of files in front of me and back up as if to say, “get back to work.”

I crossed my arms and frowned, silently responding “I don’t wanna.”

“Too bad.” He resumed his attention on his own mountain of paperwork.

We both stayed at our desks until everyone else (except Hotch – I don’t think anyone could out- stay him) had left for the night. I gave Spencer a nod to signal I was leaving, then picked up my purse and waited by the elevators. We stepped in and I pressed the button for the parking garage.

“Do you wanna come back to my place?” I asked as my heart beat out of my chest. Never would I have thought I’d be willingly inviting a coworker to my apartment.

Without hesitating, he responded “yes.”   
\----

I leaned my back against my locked front door while I watched Spencer walk around my apartment, analyzing everything I owned. He saw all of this last night, but he was too occupied with my breakdown to get a closer look.

He wandered along the bookcases before stopping and removing my collection of poems by Emily Dickinson. Of course that was what he chose. I had sticky notes sticking out of the pages marking the poems I liked the most.

He randomly chose a tab and opened it.

“Let me not mar that perfect dream By an auroral stain,  
But so adjust my daily night  
That it will come again.

You know, I haven’t read much Dickinson, but I like that.”

“Yeah, her poems are very real. She writes about life and love and death with such truth that no matter if the poem is ‘happy’ or ‘sad,’ it always comforts me in a weird way. For example, that poem is about how the only place our lives can be truly perfect is when we’re asleep. Obviously, it doesn’t sound too enticing to have to suffer through the imperfect waking hours of every day, but it’s comforting to know that we may be suffering for a reason: so we can reach perfection, if only for a night. It’s just hopeful.” I’m surprised he didn’t cut off my ramblings.

“Mmm.” He replaced the book on the shelf before making his way back to me. His hands reached down and held my waist. I instinctively raised my hands to the back of his head and twirled my fingers in his hair.

“What?” I asked as he just stood there and stared down at me.

“That means that I must be dreaming right now,” he mused.

My fingers stopped their movements in his hair and my breath hitched in my throat as I looked back at him. I immediately began to overthink the meaning behind the words he just said to me. He must’ve noticed, because right then he leaned down and kissed my lips with a gentleness he never had before. His soft lips silenced my thoughts; I could think of nothing except the way they felt on mine.

I let my hands fall before weaving with his and leading him down the hallway to my room. He had never been in here before.

I released his hand so I could start unbuttoning my shirt. He watched for a second before taking the hint and beginning to undress himself. There was a sort of silent intimacy in this moment that I had never experienced before. We both stood there for a second, completely naked, soaking in each other’s appearance at our most vulnerable. It’s not like we hadn’t seen each other like this before, but this just felt different.

I slowly stepped towards him. As he reached out to touch me, he whispered, “you’re so beautiful” as his eyes raked up and down my body.

“Stop it, you’re making me blush,” I giggled. I raised my lips to his and he guided me backwards to the bed until it hit the back of my knees, causing me to plop down.

He broke the kiss and stood at the edge of the bed for a moment before lowering to his knees. He simultaneously trailed kisses from my knees down my left inner thigh as he spread my legs open, giving him the access he wanted. His mouth moved along the joint where my leg met my hips, nipping my skin every so often.

“Spence, please.” I begged as he repeated the motions on my right thigh, refusing to lick me where he knew I wanted him to.

Finally, he licked one slow, tantalizing stripe up my slit. His hand reached up to grab my breast, twisting my nipple between two fingers as he began licking small circles around my clit.

I sighed, causing him to hum a response against me, which only caused the knot to tighten in my abdomen.

He replaced his tongue on my clit with a finger, continuing the circular motions. I groaned as I felt his tongue tease circles around my entrance before finally pushing into me so that he could taste how wet I had become.

I rolled my hips against his face, urging him to increase his pace. He picked up on my cue, returning his tongue to my clit before shoving two fingers inside of me without warning.

“Fuck, Spencer,” I moaned.

He hummed a laugh against me, spreading his fingers into a “V” as he continued to plunge them into me. I felt an immense heat spread across my entire body, cumming around his fingers as I let out a string of expletives. A kind of heat that I’m convinced only he could cause.

He removed his fingers and started a path of kisses up my stomach, through the valley between my breasts, and up my neck to my mouth. He dragged his tongue along my bottom lip before our lips met in a frenzy. It was short lived; my eyes opened to meet his in shock at the sudden loss of his lips on mine.

I watched him sit up and pump his hard dick a few times before thrusting into me without warning. “Shit, you feel so good. I-I missed you.”

“I-I missed you t-too,” I sighed as he increased his pace. I felt my second orgasm of the night bubbling in my abdomen as I wrapped my arms around his back, pulling him as close to me as possible.

This time with Spencer was different. It meant more. We were no longer just two good friends fucking as a way to distract from our problems, and I don’t think we had been in a while.

He grabbed my chin, squeezing my cheeks together. I opened my eyes just enough to see him above me, panting, mouth jaw slightly opened.

Staring into his eyes, my walls clenched around him as I came, coaxing his own orgasm out of him. Our eye contact didn’t break until he pulled out of me slowly a few moments later.

I turned on my side to look at him deep in those light brown eyes I had come to adore. I pushed a chunk of hair out of his face and gently ran my thumb against his cheek. The corners of his mouth turned up faintly before he swung his arms around me and pulled me into his chest.

I never would have thought that I would be with this man, the resident genius of the BAU, lying in my bed. His presence alone calmed me, let alone his arms wrapped around me, playing with my hair after we just had sex. I’ve never felt this way about someone before.

However, as much as I wanted to stay there with him, I wanted a UTI even less, so I ripped myself from the comfort of his arms and went to the bathroom.

Upon returning, I saw him asleep in my bed. Part of me was disappointed, but most of me was overwhelmed with adorable-ness of it all. I stood on my side of the bed for a moment, soaking in the sight, never wanting to forget it. I could only hope that I would see it again. A sneaking suspicion told me I would.

I slid under the covers and snuggled up next to him, resting my head on his chest. He squeezed his arms around me. Even in his sleep he wanted to be as close to me as possible.

After a few minutes, I blurted out “I’m falling in love with you.”

What?

My heart started beating faster than I thought possible. I didn’t realize what I had said until after I said it, and I hoped he was deep enough in sleep to not hear me. I wasn’t ready for him to hear them yet. Hell, I didn’t even know that’s how I felt until it escaped my lips.

What would happen if this didn’t pan out how I dreamed it would? The universe is rarely ever kind; it feels like it goes out of its way to be cruel sometimes.


	13. THIRTEEN

Our next case was in Wichita, Kansas. I had only been here a few times growing up solely due to it being a couple hours from Kansas City. Every time I had visited, I thought it was kind of a sad little city. I’m sure it has its gems as every place does, but I just never took the time to find them.

The unsub was murdering teenage boys and strategically placing their bodies so incoming tornadoes would act as a forensic countermeasure and destroy any evidence. Except, there was a different missing body part from each victim. We suspected he was harvesting body parts from each victim and for lack of a better term, was creating his own Frankenstein’s monster.

Garcia’s magical powers had found a man that fit our profile exactly. When he was a kid, he had watched his trailer get ripped to shreds in a tornado while his family was inside. We deduced that this unusually volatile tornado season was his stressor.

Reid, Morgan, and I tracked down the unsub to a farm right in the path of the quickly developing storm. He was holding the latest victim at knifepoint as we tried to talk him down, the partially constructed body on the ground next to them. With an F2 quickly approaching in the distance, the unsub cut his losses and stood up, carrying his creation directly into the path of the tornado. Morgan grabbed the kid he was holding hostage and we all ran to cover in a below ground storm cellar nearby.

The four of us stood in darkness and listened to the storm ravage the earth above us. “It’s okay,” I mouthed to Spencer, trying to comfort him as the whistling of the wind and the snapping of tree branches grew louder. I had been through my fair share of tornadoes before – I couldn’t count all of the nights I spent in the storm cellar in my basement.

Luckily, the tornado only hit farms and empty fields and avoided all of the major towns and suburbs surrounding Wichita. The unsub was presumed dead, so there was nothing left for us to do after the storm passed except go back to the still intact hotel for the night.

Hotch handed out the room keys as we all packed into the elevator. The first stop was my floor.

“Night, everyone,” I walked out of the elevator and smiled at them before my eyes fixed on Spencer. I was disappointed as the doors began to close and he didn’t get off. Did he really not pick up on me practically begging him to come to my room? Maybe he just wanted to drop his things off in his room then he’d come to mine.

I was already halfway down the hall when I heard the elevator ding and light footsteps running towards me. “Hey, y/n, wait!”

I turned around with a relieved smile on my face, “are you following me now, Dr. Reid?” 

“Only if you want me to,” he teased.

“Always.” I winked at him and swiped my key card to enter my room. “Are you okay, though? Tornadoes are nerve wracking, especially if it’s your first one.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine, but thanks for checking.”

We set down our bags and stood for a second before I took a step over to him. I whispered “hi” as I took both of his hands in mine.

“Hi yourself,” he said back with the same volume.

Our lips collided as we flung our clothes off, stumbling towards the bed in the process. Neither of us could keep our hands off of each other. My fingertips traced lines up and down his back, trying to memorize the way the soft skin twitched at my contact.

I flipped us over so Spencer was on his back, moving down between his thighs so I could pull off the last of his layers that separated us.

My thumb brushed over the tip of his hard dick, collecting the precum and pumping it a few times in my hand. I replaced my hand with my tongue, leisurely licking up his length.

“Shit, y/n, please,” he moaned.

I finally took his tip in my mouth, taking him inch by inch. He let out a small groan as I swirled my tongue around him. Wanting more, his hips bucked gently in my mouth, pushing his dick to the back of my throat. The vibrations of my gag sent him closer to the edge.

I looked up at him to find him already looking down at me, watching me take all of him in my mouth at once. I don’t think he could ever look more beautiful than he did just then. It was probably because I was the one that was causing him to come unraveled like this, but I also knew the cause to be the fact that I was in love with him.

Each time I bobbed my head he would move in a desperate attempt to stay close to me. Just as he was about to cum, he pulled out of my mouth and ordered “get on your hands and knees.”

I obeyed. I felt his fingers wrap around my waist then hook under my panties, taking his time to slide them off. One hand hit my shoulders and forced me into the bed, shoving my cheek into the comforter.

The bed creaked slightly as he got into position behind me. “You’re so beautiful like this,” he whispered so softly I don’t think he meant for me to hear him. His hands gently massaged my ass for a few seconds before roughly wrapping around my hips and thrusting into me.

A squeal escaped from between my lips at the feeling of him bottoming out inside of me. I gripped the comforter in my hands, hoping it would provide me some sort of stability.

He moaned my name, nothing else except the sounds of skin against skin filling the room. One of his hands released its hold on my hip and snaked around to rub tight circles on my clit. “Fuck, Spence,” I sighed at the extra stimulation.

I hadn’t realized how close I was until all of the sudden, my orgasm hit me like a train. A heat flooded throughout my entire body as I called out his name, him still slamming into me in search of his own release. After a few more sloppy thrusts, he came, my walls tightening around him one last time as he filled me with his warm cum.

He pulled out of me and left to go to the bathroom. I rolled over on my back and immediately knew I would be at least a little sore tomorrow. My cheek was a bit raw from the friction of rubbing against the comforter for so long.

Tomorrow, I was going to drive an SUV we had loaned from the KBI partly so I could return it, but mostly so I could go visit my family. I didn’t ever really have the opportunity for “vacations” anymore, so I had to take whatever chances to see them I could get. I wouldn’t be able to stay long, but something was better than nothing, right? Hotch already knew I wouldn’t join them on the jet home, and that I would just get a commercial flight back. He only let me do this under the promise that I would be at work the next morning along with everyone else.

I think I was finally ready to tell Spencer. To tell him everything about my past so that I could take this next step with him. I wanted to take him to their graves.

Spencer came back into the room a few minutes later with a warm washcloth. He tenderly wiped away both of our pleasures from my inner thighs.

We just laid there, naked, limbs tangled under the covers, in silence, for what felt like an hour. It was like we were daring the other to fall asleep first. I finally broke the silence with my question. “Hey, Spence?”

“Mhm?” he hummed.

“Do you wanna come to Kansas City with me tomorrow? I’ve already cleared it with Hotch so I’m sure it’d be alright if you came too. You don’t have to, obviously, it is a few hours’ drive but-”

“Yes,” he cut off my nervous ramblings without a second thought.

I smiled an “okay,” even though he couldn’t see my face as my head rested on his bare chest. Neither of us talked again for the rest of the night.

\----

“Don’t you want to know where we’re going?” We were already on the road as the sun was rising. I wanted as much time with them as possible.

“No, I’m alright,” he responded cooly.

“Woah! Who are you and what have you done with Doctor Spencer Reid?” I teased, shocked that the man who hated surprises wanted this one to remain as such.

“Do you wanna know my reasons?” I nodded as he continued. “With what little I actually know about you, I was able to come to the following conclusions. You’re from Kansas, I presume from Kansas City because it’s the largest metropolitan area in the state and you wouldn’t have decided to drive there without it being where you grew up. Now, the main reason someone would want to visit their hometown is to see family that still lives there. So, even though you’ve only mentioned your family once, I think we’re going to go see them.”

I pondered for a moment. “Hmm. So close, yet so far.” “So, I’m wrong?”

“You’ll see when we get there.” He didn’t know it yet, but that was a cruel thing to say. I reached out and laced my fingers between his and rested our hands in his lap. He stared out the window at the passing corn fields and cows for our entire drive, only glancing over at me every so often.

We neared our destination, but I had to make a pit stop first. “Hold on, I have to make a quick stop. You can stay in the car, I’ll be right back.”

He looked at me confused as I pulled into a grocery store parking lot, but not as confused as when I returned from the store with nothing but a dozen red roses.

“Don’t worry, pretty boy, these aren’t for you.” I explained as I buckled my seatbelt, put the SUV in drive and finished the last 10 minutes of our journey.

My heart began to race when I turned down the long cemetery drive, pulling over into spot nearest my family’s graves. We were here, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t turn back now.

“Y/n, what-” Spencer started until it sank in. The gears in his head were turning as he pieced it together. We were going to see my family, just not how he assumed.

He gave me a look that was somewhere between pity and sympathy. We both got out of the car and I led us, bouquet in one hand, his in my other, to the headstones.

I stopped us in front of three stones with identical last names and dates. “Here we are. Mom, Dad, Ian, this is Spencer. Spence, this is my family,” my voice wavered. His hand squeezed mine, and I could see him look at me out of my peripherals. I couldn’t look back.

It felt kind of morbid to introduce them like that, but I never intended to do it with anyone again, so it would have to do.

I leaned down and placed four roses on the grass in front of each stone. Spencer understood that this wasn’t the time for questions, that all I needed was silence.

His arm rested on the small of my back when I stood up. His touch anchored me; brought me back down to the ground from the tailspin my mind was in.

The sky was overcast and the wind so strong I struggled to stand still during the gusts. No sooner after I finished positioning the roses so they wouldn’t blow away immediately, did the rain start. In true Kansas fashion, the thunder and lightning crashed around us and rain poured from the sky in a matter of seconds.

We sprinted back to the car as fast as we could but were drenched by the time we slammed the doors closed.

“Y/n, I-I’m... so so sorry for your loss,” he eventually said after sitting in silence for a few moments.

I fucking hated when people said that. They only meant well and probably didn’t know what else to say, but why are they apologizing for something they had no control over, and didn’t even know about until 5 minutes ago? And what the fuck was I ever supposed to say back? Thank you? It’s okay? Because I wasn’t thankful for it and it sure as shit wasn’t okay.

The apology hung in the damp air. I couldn’t let him see my rage at his words.

I took a deep breath. “I...they were... murdered one night when I was a teenager. Their throats were um- they were cut while they were sleeping. A-And that was the night I got these scars.” I choked on the bile that was rising in my throat.

Unknown to me, I had been anxiously scratching my arms harder than ever, and was starting to leave marks. He noticed, and trying to stop me from hurting myself, pulled my hand away and brought it to his lips. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t-”

“But I want to. I need to,” I paused. “I just slept through it. I fucking slept through my family getting killed in the other room.” My face was hot and wet with tears. Spencer rubbed comforting circles on my hand and let me continue.

“It wasn’t until I was being dragged from my bed that I woke up. H-He tied me to my kitchen table...” the sobs reverberated up through my chest rendering me incapable of talking for a few minutes as I let them take control of my body.

I ripped my hand from his and harshly pushed up my sleeves. “... it’s... it’s still kind of fuzzy but when I close my eyes I c-can still feel it – the feeling of him slicing my arms and leaving me to b-bleed out,” I blubbered. “I-I just feel like I’m losing them... like they’re disappearing more and more every day and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

Spencer took a few seconds to carefully think through what he said next. “Y/n, I promise you that you aren’t losing them. No one can ever truly disappear when we still have our memories of them. Just hold on to the good ones and never let them go.”

I had felt my connection to my family and childhood slipping for years, so hearing someone else say what I already knew deep down switched something in me. I had tried to cling to those happy memories by reading through the journal I kept right after their deaths – it was filled with both happy and sad memories alike, but it wasn’t the same as being with them. It was like putting a Band-Aid on a bullet wound.

There was just so much that I didn’t know about my parent’s lives before they had my brother and me, and no matter what I did, I would never know everything. My greatest regret in life so far was not asking them the questions I now had. But I was a kid. It’s not like I lived my life in constant fear of losing the people I loved most because up until then, nothing bad had ever happened to me. I wasn’t so naïve anymore.

I took his hand back in mine. “There is no greater pain than to remember, in our present grief, past happiness,” I whispered.

“Dante’s Inferno,” he smiled warmly, picking up on my quote.

I felt the corners of my mouth turn up ever so slightly. The sounds of the rain quieted, leaving Spencer and I sitting in silence, crushed under the weight of my confession.

I looked down at his hand and traced the lines of his palm with my finger, none too small or insignificant for me to skip over. Can you actually learn about someone’s love life based on the way these creases form? And if you can, what would his say about me? Would they say anything at all?

Saddened by the sudden loss of touch when his hand moved out from under my fingers, I finally raised my head and looked him in the eyes. The pity was gone, replaced by a genuine desire to ease my pain and a glimmer of something warmer. Something I knew was apparent in mine as well.

The hand that had just held mine so recently reached up and brushed the remaining tears from my cheeks. Neither of us spoke a single word.

Moments always seem to end just as soon as they begin. With the expiration of this one, I turned the keys in the ignition and put the car in drive, heading to the airport and back to reality.


	14. FOURTEEN

An emotional weight had been lifted off of my shoulders. Spencer had graciously welcomed my trauma and held it alongside his own without a second thought.

For the past couple of weeks, we acted differently around each other. That’s not to say we hadn’t obviously been more than “just friends” for quite some time now, but things were especially different now.

In the past, it was like we would go to any lengths to hide our true feelings from each other, to not even admit them to ourselves. But now, we did everything short of make out in front of the team. We spent every waking moment together, every second between cases, every day in the bullpen sharing sly smiles from across the room. We held hands under the table on the jet and sneaked kisses in the break room when we thought no one was looking.

One look at him and all of my worries would just melt away. It seems like sometimes he would test out that fact just to see how far he could push me.

“Ow! What the hell was that?” I half-shouted as I rubbed the growing sore spot on the top of my head.

Spencer was showing off his ‘physics magic’ again. I normally found it pretty amusing, just not when I was the one who got hit with the tiny plastic rocket. “I-I’m sorry!” Spencer’s lips curled up slightly as he tried to hold back laughter at my annoyed expression. It definitely didn’t help that Morgan and Prentiss were giggling behind him when it happened.

“Better go apologize to your girlfriend, pretty boy,” Morgan joked, smacking Spencer’s shoulder.

What I heard him say next wasn’t technically wrong, but it didn’t mean it didn’t hurt me any less. “She’s not my girlfriend.” The blush on his face was as red as the quickly approaching Garcia’s lipstick.

“Hello, my lovelies! What’s everyone dressing up as tonight?” she chirped.

Today just so happened to be Halloween – Spencer’s favorite holiday – and Rossi was throwing a huge party at his mansion. Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed Halloween, it just seemed that every year when it rolled around, I could never think of a good enough costume. If I happened to get invited to a party, I would generally opt to throw on whatever I could find in my closet.

This year wasn’t much different, but little did Spencer know, I had a surprise in store for him. 

\----

The end of the day came, and Spencer and I left together, stopping by my apartment to get ready before heading to Rossi’s.

My excitement and nervousness grew in the pit of my stomach as I reached into my underwear drawer and pulled out my surprise. It was a black lingerie set. The push up bra was covered in lace and had extra straps that rested over my breasts, accentuating my cleavage, and the panties (if you could call them that – they were more for show than anything else) hooked down to my lace-lined pantyhose.

I carefully put on the black set and stood admiring myself in the floor length mirror in my bedroom. Damn, I was hot. Just as my narcissism was waning, Spencer walked into my room, all decked out dressed as whatever monster he was going as this year.

His jaw dropped so far he had to pick it up off of the ground. “Y/n...” 

“You like?” I teased. I knew he did, but that didn’t stop me from asking.

“You look... hot.” He took a few steps towards me, reaching out to touch what I was wearing just for him.

I smacked his hands away and flashed him a playful smile. “Nope. No touching until after the party.”

“But how? How can I go see all of my friends knowing you’re wearing this and not touch you?” His eyes continued to rake across my body.

“That sounds like a you problem.” I grabbed the rest of my costume from my closet. I was going as Bella Swan, because hey, I had to balance out the uncomfortable lingerie with something and it was way too easy to throw on a t-shirt, jeans, and a hoodie. It’s basically what I wore when I wasn’t at work, anyways.

\----

“Ciao, bella!” Rossi placed a small peck on either of my cheeks. “Please, come in, come in!”

Spencer and I walked inside, baffled by the grandeur. I never thought Halloween decorations could be this elegant but leave it up to Rossi to find a way around the typical tacky décor.

The tiniest bit of anxiety creeped in as we walked around a house full of people I didn’t recognize, causing me to scratch my arms. Spencer immediately noticed and took my hand in his to distract me. This was dangerous – we didn’t know where the rest of the team was, or if anyone was even here yet.

“C’mon, let’s go get you a drink.” He led me to the kitchen, the one room in this house we had spent the most time in. Rossi had the team over frequently, mostly to cook us dinner and let us drink all of his expensive wine, but I had never been to one of his parties until now.

We rounded the corner into the kitchen and our hands flew apart like shrapnel. Emily and JJ were standing at the island, sipping their drinks and chatting.

“Well, look who finally showed up!” JJ scolded.

“Hey, you know this costume took a lot of prep! I definitely didn’t just grab it out of my closet.” I gestured down to the clothes I absolutely just grabbed out of my closet.

“Is Morgan here yet?” Spencer glanced around the kitchen.

“Yeah, he’s over there.” Emily pointed in the direction of the dining room, towards which Spencer started walking. “So, what’s up with you and Reid?” She asked immediately after he was out of earshot. They were wasting no time before the interrogation.

I choked lightly on the drink I just sipped. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, don’t pretend like you don’t know!” JJ smirked. “We’ve all seen the way you look at each other.”

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about, we’re just friends. I swear.” I lied through my teeth, and there’s no way they believed me.

“Mhm so all of the smiles, the sitting next to each other at every opportunity, the hand holding-” she vaguely gestured in the direction of where Spencer and I had entered the kitchen a few minutes ago. “That’s just between friends?”

“Y-Yes,” I doubled-down. I wasn’t about to let them pop the sweet little bubble Spencer and I had been in lately. “I get a bit of social anxiety sometimes and I was nervous with all of these random people around and...”

I was saved by the bell. Or, rather, saved by the lively greetings Garcia was shrieking at us as she ran over.

\----

(Spencer POV)

I left y/n to go find Morgan. As much as I wanted to stay with her the whole night, that would raise suspicions. And plus, I knew I would see her later.

“Hey, Morgan!” He was standing near the table piled high with food talking with some woman, but I interrupted anyways.

“I’ll come find you later, baby,” he said, which caused the woman to release her tight grip on his arm and walk away with a smile. He turned to me. “Hey kid! This party is poppin’, right? Rossi really outdid himself on this one.”

“Did you know that Halloween actually started as an ancient Celtic festival of Samhain? October 31st symbolized the end of summer, and with that came winter which was associated with increased periods of human death. The Celts believed that on this day the boundaries of the living and dead blurred, causing the ghosts of the dead to return to Earth. They built huge sacred bonfires and wore costumes made out of animal heads and skins.”

“Wow, no I didn’t.” He couldn’t have tried to look less interested than he did. People typically didn’t enjoy my rambles and just listened out of respect, but I thought that the origins of Halloween would’ve at least captured his attention. “Come on, I need another drink.” I followed him back to the kitchen.

Just as we entered the room, I heard Garcia shout, “let’s dance!” and grab y/n by the wrist to pull her into the other room.

Our eyes met briefly, and she smiled at me. Weird. She hated dancing almost as much as I did, so who knows why she was actively moving towards the loud music to do just that.

Nevertheless, I followed them. Standing by myself, I leaned awkwardly against the wall and watched y/n dance. Hopefully no one else at the party noticed me watching her every move; I could only imagine what they would think of me.

She was completely swept up in the music, her body swaying with such ease that to any outsider, it would be impossible to believe she didn’t like dancing. Her eyes fluttered open and shut as she twirled. The smile plastered on her face burned as bright as the sun, lighting up the dark room we were in. The rest of the world seemed to fall away as I watched her. She was the sun; she was the moon; she was the earth; she was my entire universe, and I couldn’t help but love her.

Her eyes scanned the room until they landed on mine, already staring back at her. We maintained eye contact as she grabbed Emily and danced on her. The overtly sexual grinding of her hips against Emily’s and fluffing of her hair was a taunt. She knew exactly what she was doing to me.

I couldn’t tear my eyes away, and even if I could, I definitely didn’t want to. Regardless, she wasn’t going to get away with this so easily.

I nodded my head, indicating for her to follow me. I waited in the hallway for a few seconds before grabbing her and rushing into the bathroom.

“Spence wha-”

I didn’t even give her a chance to finish talking before I pinned her against the door, crashing our lips together. Her hands shot up to weave through my hair, immediately giving in to the kiss.

I unbuttoned her jeans and slid my hand over the lace panties she was wearing just for me. They put up little resistance, so I was able to maneuver my fingers around them with ease. She sighed into my mouth at the feeling of my fingers now rubbing tight circles around her clit. Every so often I moved my fingers from her clit down to tease her entrance, collecting some of the wetness, before moving back.

Part of me thought she might reject my advances because the last time I attempted a similar stunt, it ended with a blowout fight and not speaking to each other for weeks. But she didn’t tell me to stop this time.

I pulled back and looked at her, eyes closed and lips slightly parted, completely coming undone to my touch.

Her eyelids raised to reveal the sometimes-green-sometimes-blue eyes that I had fallen for the second that I saw them. I know it’s a cliché, but her eyes really were like the ocean – except calmer and more comforting. It was like they held all of the answers to my questions; questions I didn’t even know I had. I would be content to drift in them for the rest of eternity if she would let me. Sentiments become clichés for a reason, I guess.

So, I set afloat in the ocean of her eyes as I sunk my fingers deep into her, curling them with every thrust. I continued the pace until I could tell she was close. Right as she reached the edge, I pulled out my fingers.

“What are you doing?” She was equally confused and pissed off at the sudden lack of contact.

“Paying you back for that dancing.” It took everything in me to pull her away from the door so I could leave. I wanted nothing more than to rip the rest of her clothes off and take her right here in Rossi’s bathroom, but I couldn’t let her know that.

“What am I supposed to do with th-” she started.

“That sounds like a you problem,” I smiled smugly as I walked out. Two can play at that game, y/n.

\----

(y/n POV)

Son of a bitch!

That bastard really just fingered me to the brink of my orgasm, used my own words against me, then left. Sure, I was teasing him with the lingerie and grinding on Emily, but that... that was just cruel. And dare I say it, hot? The obvious control he had over me was astounding.

I splashed my face with cold water to help myself calm down. I patted my face dry and stood for a few seconds to gather my thoughts before returning to the party.

I spent the rest of the night with the girls, occasionally locking eyes with Spencer and giving him my best, albeit very playful “I’m mad at you” look.

But finally, it was time to leave. Despite the party being at his house, I hadn’t seen Rossi all night except for when he answered the door.

“My place?” Spencer asked as we climbed into my car.

“Mhm.” I put the car into gear and started driving. The tension in the air the whole drive to his apartment was unbearable. If I had my way, I would’ve pulled over and ripped his clothes off then and there. However, two FBI agents getting caught having sex in a car on the side of the road wasn’t exactly the best look for us or The Bureau, so I kept driving.

I’m sure he felt the same, because the second his front door shut behind us, his mouth connected with mine. We tore our clothes off in a frenzied rush to be as naked as possible as soon as possible, throwing them everywhere around the living room. Clothes would only slow down what we really wanted to do. My lingerie had already served its purpose earlier tonight.

We stumbled around until we reached the nearest large object – his desk. He cleared it with one large motion, sending everything crashing to the ground. That was a mess for future us to worry about.

I hopped up to sit, the cold wood against my ass bringing me back to reality for a second. It didn’t last long though, as Spencer thrust into me, bottoming out. I gasped at the feeling. I wonder how many times he had thought about fucking me tonight. If his current actions were any sort of indication, I would guess a lot.

“S-Spence... d-don’t stop,” I moaned, which thankfully caused him to increase his pace. The much-welcomed warmth I was denied earlier was building in my lower abdomen.

One of his hands reached down to rub my clit while the other continued its hold on my waist. “Fuck, y/n I-”

I cut him off and began kissing him again, harder than I ever had before. Our tongues met with such fire I thought we might burn his apartment down, leaving nothing but ashes in our wake.

He grabbed my chin and separated our faces. “Look at me when you cum,” he demanded.

I had noticed this consistent demand pretty much since the beginning of our arrangement. He always wanted me to look at him when I finished. But he was one of, if not the most irresistible person I had ever seen, so I never objected to a few extra seconds of looking into his warm, honey-colored eyes.

“Spence,” I sighed as I fought my eyes to stay open and came around him.

I continued studying his face contorted in pleasure as his thrusts became sloppier and his dick twitched inside of me, him saying my name just as I said his.


	15. FIFTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: mild case description

My phone rang not one minute after we finished. I hurried across the room, still naked, to answer it. It was Hotch. It would’ve been wrong on so many levels to answer this call – from my boss – while naked, so I snatched a blanket from the couch nearby and wrapped it around myself.

“Hey, Hotch,” I answered.

“We have a case. Can you be here in an hour?” His serious tone filled my ear.

“Yeah, see you soon,” I hung up and shuffled back over to Spencer. He received the same call seconds later. “Can we stop by my place so I can change?” I asked as I tried not to show my disappointment.

“No.” His arms wrapped around me so tightly I thought he might crush a rib. 

“No?” I looked up at him, confused by his refusal to such a reasonable request.

“I don’t want to go. I just want to stay here and go to sleep,” he pouted. He didn’t need to convince me; the last thing I wanted to do right now was go into work and ruin this moment.

“I’m sure we can sleep on the jet. I really don’t wanna go either, but we have to. C’mon, if we leave now I can change, and then maybe I’ll sit next to you on the flight there.” I gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and he begrudgingly released his grip on me.

\----

The jet touched down at the local municipal airport early the next morning. All we knew is that a bomb exploded in a house, killing a father and daughter. When two cops arrived on the scene, they were shot and killed with an automatic weapon. Due to the town’s proximity to the border, a terror alert was sent out to the surrounding areas.

We split up between two SUVs that were at the airport waiting for us, all headed to the crime scene. Once we arrived, JJ introduced the team to the Sheriff, and Hotch began asking him questions about the victims. In a town this small, there were no secrets – everyone knows everything about each other.

Rossi, Prentiss, and I carefully treaded around what was left of the house. The unsub had placed canisters of gunpowder in the kitchen by the front door and broken the oven’s pilot light. The combination of the gas filled room and the gunpowder caused the destruction we stood in the middle of. “So then what was the trigger?” I asked.

“The victim smoked.” Prentiss held up a carton of cigarettes, blackened by the fire. “And they probably knew he would be smoking when he entered the door.”

We reasoned that these killings weren’t an act of terrorism – the unsub knew the father personally.

Rossi soon got a call from Hotch telling us there was another victim, and that we needed to go check it out. I didn’t even know Hotch and Morgan had left, Spencer along with them.

Spencer and I didn’t talk much over the next couple of days. I was sharing a room with Emily, and as much as I loved her, she wasn’t the one I wanted to spend my nights with right now.

The unsub was a student at the high school in town. He was likely very gifted intellectually, but struggled with reading and spatial reasoning, causing his poor grades and dislike for sports.

Emotional abuse experienced at home by his father and at school by his peers led him to commit these acts of violence. He was what we termed an “injustice collector;” someone who killed out of revenge, thereby collecting the lives of the people who wronged them in any way. All of this isn’t to say that everyone who’s bullied kills people, but it can happen under the right conditions.

We believed him to be hiding out at a ranch just outside of town, but when Hotch, Morgan, and I pulled up with the Sheriff, he wasn’t there.

The unsub was cornered, and he probably knew he was running out of time. The profile told us that he would go visit his mother’s grave one last time, but when we arrived, he wasn’t there either.

Out of plans, the three of us, closely followed by the Sheriff and some of the local PD, went back to the station. Upon arriving, I saw Spencer standing in the middle of the street, hands raised in the air, with no bulletproof vest on. Slightly confused, my eyes flicked 15 feet to the left to see the unsub aiming a semi-automatic rifle straight at Spencer’s chest.

I jumped out of the SUV and raised my gun. What the fuck are you doing, Spencer? I felt bile rise in my throat and tears prick the corner of my eyes. I needed to pull it together, so I shook the tears from my eyes and watched Spencer’s back, completely unable to help the situation. My inability to help was compounded when he glanced back at us, guns raised, and adjusted his stance to block our shots.

Much to all of our astonishments, the unsub eventually lowered his gun and carefully placed it on the ground between them. My heart filled with relief as I ran over to them. I yanked his raised hands behind his back and cuffed him.

\----

“Can you read to me?” Spencer whispered to me.

We had just reached cruising altitude on the jet, on our way back to Virginia. Spencer and I were sitting on the couch, close enough to touch but not close enough to draw attention.

My knees were pulled into my chest under the blanket we were sharing, one arm wrapped around my legs, the other resting on Spencer’s thigh. It was getting chillier outside by the day, and they always kept the plane ice cold, so I started packing a fuzzy blanket just for these late-night moments.

I chuckled, leaning my head against my knees so I could get a better look at him. “Why? You can read many thousands of words more than me per minute.”

“I just... don’t want to think for a while.” The sadness creeped through his voice as he mumbled that last line. This case had taken a particularly large piece of him.

I know I shouldn’t profile my coworkers – especially the ones I’m sleeping with – but based on how he acted throughout this case, I suspect Spencer was bullied growing up. Kids and teenagers typically don’t take too kindly to the smart, nerdy kids, and that was all he knew how to be.

But let’s be honest, who wasn’t bullied at some point in their life? Based on my experiences as the shy girl who didn’t really do much, I was still pushed around. The girls in preschool pulled my hair, in middle school they made me feel ugly for not looking how they did, in high school... okay I really don’t know why I was bullied in high school, but let’s just say my sophomore year was Dante’s forgotten 10th circle of hell.

“O-Okay. What do you want me to read?”

“Whatever book I know you have in your bag,” the corners of his lips turned upwards as he gestured towards my go bag on the floor next to me.

I reached inside and pulled out my beaten-up copy of Anna Karenina. I hadn’t read it in years but got the urge to start it over again after visiting my family. I flipped open to the pages divided by my bookmark and continued where I left off:

“All the girls in the world were divided into two classes: one class included all the girls in the world except her, and they had all the usual human feelings and were very ordinary girls; while the other class – herself alone – had no weaknesses and was superior to all humanity.”

Spencer laid his head on my shoulder and closed his eyes. “Spencer-” I started.

“I don’t care,” he stated simply.

That was that. This public display would surely raise some eyebrows from the team, but Spencer said he didn’t care, and honestly, I really didn’t either. They already knew something was up, and this would only slightly confirm that.

The words continued to flow in hushed tones from my mouth until I realized that he was asleep. Reading at night was never my thing because it always made me fall asleep instantly, regardless of how interested I was in the content of the book. I placed the bookmark between the pages and gently tossed it to the floor.

“Y/n, wake up, we’re about to land.” Emily tapped my shoulder lightly, not wanting to startle me. Guess the reading did its job by making me sleep so quickly that I don’t even remember doing it.

My eyes fluttered open. “Mhm, okay, I’m awake.” She returned to her seat and I looked down to see Spencer curled up into a ball with his head resting on my lap. He had the audacity to steal the entire blanket while we were asleep. Normally I was the one who did that.

I ran my fingers through his chaotic brown hair until I woke him. He rolled onto his back and looked at me through half-lidded eyes. At this point, I didn’t give a shit who saw. I trailed my hand down from his hair to the side of his face and ran my thumb along his cheek.

In the boldest display of public affection I could’ve imagined from Spencer at this point in time, he grabbed my hand and placed one chaste kiss on each knuckle before laying it to rest on his chest. My heart warmed, and what felt like all of the blood in my entire body rushed to my cheeks.

Out of habit, I nervously glanced around the jet to make sure no one saw his actions. We could make up plenty of excuses for the lunches, always arriving/leaving together, and the accidental sleeping together on the jet, but there was no excuse for what either of us just did.

It was in these moments of violent shaking as the jet landed that I knew. I knew for sure. There wasn’t an “I think” at the beginning this time. As much as I tried to fight it, Spencer Reid had broken down that last wall and worked his way into my heart.

I was in love with him.


	16. SIXTEEN

“I have a surprise for you,” Spencer said between bites of his lunch. He had come to join me at my desk while I finished up paperwork for the case. Hotch had given everyone the rest of the day off, but with as slow as I was at filling out the redundant FBI forms, I was the last person still here actively working on them.

“Ooo what is it?” In contrast with him, I loved surprises. Rather, I loved the big reveal but dreaded the anticipation.

“Well, if I told you, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise, would it?” He grinned with the knowledge that I begged to know. “I’ll pick you up at 7pm.”

“What’s the dress code for this surprise?” If he wouldn’t tell me what he had planned, he could at least give me a hint about what to wear. With that same devilish grin, he shook his head no. He wouldn’t even give that up.

I drove him home, my mind running through every possible thing he could have planned tonight. Once I got home, I made a beeline to my bedroom and flopped on my bed, not even bothering to change or shower off the traveling.

My sleep schedule would take weeks to recover from the nap I took. It was such a deep sleep that I woke up in the same position with indentations of the crumpled comforter on the side of my face.

I was too excited to see Spencer tonight to procrastinate getting ready. I wanted every second I could get so that I’d look my absolute best. Fresh out of the shower, I stood in front of my closet with a towel wrapped around me. Many minutes of thought and deliberation led me to pick out a silky blue crop top and black high waisted pants, along with my black vans. Cute, a little revealing, and nice, but not too nice.

I put on a little bit of brown eyeshadow and a small winged liner. It was just enough so that you could tell I was wearing it, but not as much as I normally put on for a date. Fuck. Was this a date? Two people who very obviously liked each other going out alone at night? We had been out together many times before, but they were always with the team or right after work, so it didn’t really count. I smiled at myself in the bathroom mirror as I finished my makeup. This was a date.

A knock at my door snapped me out my daydreams. The nervousness in the pit of my stomach became all too apparent when I walked to answer it. I took a deep breath and twisted the doorknob.

“Hey, y/n. You ready?” Spencer was wearing a slightly relaxed version of his normal work attire – a light purple button down with a gray sweater vest over top.

“Yeah, let me just grab my purse.”

He took the keys from my hand and insisted I let him drive my car, “so it’s a true surprise,” he had said. I didn’t put up too much of a fight because I knew I would lose regardless. At least I could control the music, right?

Within 30 minutes, we pulled up outside of this big stone building between the capitol and the monument. “What museum is this?”

“The National Gallery of Art. C’mon, let’s go.” We got out of the car and he led me down the sidewalk and up the broad front steps to the building.

Why would he bring me here? I know I had artwork covering every free square inch of my walls, but that was mostly just a coping mechanism. My parents and grandparents had collected it over the years and being the only one left in the family still alive, I inherited all of it. It reminded me of them without actually having to see their faces.

“Wait, Spence I think it’s closed,” I stopped right before the front doors. A sign to the left of the doors clearly said ‘FRI 10am-5pm.’

“I know,” he pulled open the door and we walked inside anyways.

I was in awe at the grandeur of the entry. There were tall ceilings, stone pillars, and marble floors, with a small but elegant fountain in the middle of the room. He seemed to know exactly where to go, so I just followed aimlessly down hallway after hallway, past what felt like the entire contents of the museum.

Suddenly, I crashed into Spencer’s back, almost causing both of us to fall to the ground. I was so distracted trying to catch a glimpse of everything we were rushing past that I didn’t notice when he stopped walking.

He chuckled and turned my shoulders to face the painting hanging on the wall. “We’re here.” He took a brief pause to let me examine what was before me. “Small Worlds I, by Wassily Kandinsky; 1922. Did you know that he’s regarded as the first artist to create the first painting that was truly abstract in form?”

“Uh, yes, actually. H-he’s one of my favorites.” I mumbled softly before turning to look at him. “Spence... this place is empty. How is it okay we’re here right now?”

He faced me, looking down at his hands as they laced with mine. “Working at the FBI has its perks.”

Also being an FBI agent myself, I had never gotten perks like this. Complete after-hours access to an art museum that held countless priceless works? Absolutely not. At most I would get a free coffee here and there from my favorite coffee shop back in KC, but that was only when I was in a hurry. Plus, people in D.C. wouldn’t even take a second glance at me; FBI agents were as common as cops.

“Maybe you can show me where to find these kinds of perks,” I watched his face turn red as he continued to look down at our hands. “Why did you bring me here?”

“I-I uh- well last time you brought me somewhere you thought I’d like, so it was my turn to bring you somewhere this time. I’ve noticed all of the art you have and... the uh- the first time you were at my apartment I noticed you looking at a book I have on Kandinsky. I notice a lot of things about you, actually.”

I had the biggest smile on my face I ever thought possible. “Well, if you weren’t so cute, I’d be very creeped out right now, Dr. Reid.”

His face lit up at those last two words with a brightness that rivaled the sun. “Y/n, I have to tell you something.”

“Mhm?” My eyes burned as I stared directly into the sun, but I couldn’t rip them away.

“I love you. I am in love with you.” The confidence in his voice told me he’d been planning this exact moment for a long time.

The museum faded to black as we were the only two people left to exist, floating through space. In that moment, I was but a planet, orbiting the star at the center of my own universe – life and death and everything in between controlled by him.

“Spencer, I l-” I started, unable to finish. You love him too. Just say you love him too.

No words escaped my mouth. Was I really still so broken that I couldn’t reciprocate the feelings this beautiful man standing before me just confessed? He knew the darkest parts of me, and he still loved me. Shouldn’t that be enough? Why wasn’t that enough?

A split second after I stopped talking, unable to share my true feelings, I pressed my lips gently to his. I held either side of his face as my actions tried to speak louder than the words I couldn’t say. He kissed me back in the same tender, caring manner he had as of late, and I realized: that’s what love felt like.

He pulled away and rested his forehead against mine. “I know,” he breathed. 

\----

(Spencer POV)

I have never understood why people used the term “making love.” Sex was nothing but a physical exchange and the release of hormones, in particular oxytocin, from the hypothalamus. Love was just a term we made up to describe the rush of chemicals.

At least that was what I used to think. Tonight was different. I had never expected to fall so deeply and irreversibly in love with someone, or even be able to get close enough to have the opportunity.

Part of me was disappointed that y/n didn’t say it back, but I knew – or I hoped that she felt it too. Technically, we were still just friends with benefits, so logically, I couldn’t be mad at her lack of response.

Our arrangement started 8 months, 6 days, 17 hours, and 23 minutes ago, but I think I had made up my mind about my feelings for her the instant we kissed for the first time.

I kicked the door shut behind us, slamming it harder than I intended to. “Sorry,” I muttered between kisses as she guided our bodies down the hall to her bedroom.

I could already feel the bulge growing in my pants as she unbuckled my belt and slid them off. Suddenly noticing my overwhelming lack of clothes and her abundance of them, I moved as fast as I could to even the score.

I left a trail of kisses down her jaw before settling on her neck. Meanwhile, my hands slid up from her waist and met her silky blue shirt. I played with the hem in between my fingers for a moment before lifting the shirt above her head.

My heart warmed at such a small action. When we first started sleeping together, she always kept her shirt on, but here she was, letting me take it off for her. She trusted me enough to share this part of her life with me, and I vowed to never break that trust.

I pushed her back onto the bed, to which she immediately scooted up towards the headboard. She placed her feet flat on the bed and spread her bent knees, exposing herself to me. The giggle that accompanied her movements was the sweetest noise I had ever heard and convinced myself I would ever hear.

I felt a tight smile pull at my lips as I got onto the bed and crawled over to her. Her actions told me that she didn’t want to warm up – she wanted me as soon as possible. I positioned myself directly in between her thighs and watched the contortions of her face as I thrust into her.

“Fuck,” I groaned. I increased my pace as I kept my eyes trained on her. Watching her eyes scrunch closed, brows furrow, mouth open slightly as silent moans escaped between her lips was something I would never grow tired of.

Despite us having sex only a few days ago, I was already embarrassingly close to finishing. It was in this moment that I began to understand the term I had so naively misjudged before. Because right now, we weren’t just two people taking part in a shared physical experience, we were more than that. We were making more than chemicals and hormones; we were making love.

Y/n’s eyes opened and caught mine looking at her. “Tell me what you said earlier,” she demanded.

Confused, I sighed “what?” in between thrusts. 

“You know,” she pleaded.

I racked my brain for everything I said to her today, before settling on the obvious choice. “...I love you?”

She nodded, indicating that’s what she wanted to hear. “Say it again, Spence, please.”

“I love you. I love you so much, y/n.” With every push into her and my shouting of those three words, her cries became louder until she threw her head back into the pillows and finally came. Her walls clenched around my dick as my thrusts became uneven and I finished.

I fell on top of her and rested my face where her shoulder met her neck, lightly placing small kisses on her soft skin.

We laid there in that position for what felt like hours, neither of us daring to break the moment to move.

I finally did, pulling out of her and laying on my side so that I could see her. She faced me and brushed a stray clump of hair out of my eyes. “What are you thinking about?”

“Spencer, I... n-no, nothing,” she shook her head and whispered in response.

I could tell she wanted to say it back, but something was stopping her. As much as I desperately wanted to hear it, I didn’t force it. She would say it when she was ready. “It’s okay, y/n. You don’t have to say it back. I didn’t say it so that you would reciprocate, I said it because that’s how I feel.”

She gave me a small smile and placed a chaste kiss on my lips before snuggling up against my chest. We fell asleep like that, my arms wrapped around her, just the two of us existing together in our own universe.


	17. SEVENTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: gun violence, blood, death/dying

My eyes fluttered open to see the faint morning sunlight peeking through the curtains in my bedroom. I rolled to my other side to face Spencer, the movement causing him to hold me tighter.

He groaned.

“Good morning.” I brushed a piece of hair behind his ear before placing a small kiss on his cheek. “I’ll go make breakfast. Just stay here,” I whispered.

I went to the kitchen and turned on the coffee pot. Thankfully, the avocado I had left sitting out on the counter while we were on the last case just so happened to be perfectly ripe. I knew that I had the chance of being pulled away from D.C. at any moment for work but yet I continued to buy avocados. It was like a weird, low-stakes game of Russian roulette where the bad (and most frequent) outcome was I would come home exhausted from a case to an empty apartment and a rotting avocado in my kitchen.

So, I threw some sourdough bread in the toaster and cracked a couple eggs into a bowl. I really did love to cook, but eggs were never my strong suit. Scrambled eggs are practically impossible to mess up, though, so that’s what I made to go along with the avocado toast.

Coffee and breakfast in hand, I walked back to my bedroom to find Spencer passed out again. I debated briefly over whether or not I should take the food back to the kitchen and let him sleep.

“Hey, Spence, I have breakfast.” I was too selfish to let him sleep.

He immediately perked up, slowly propping himself up on his elbows. “For me?” His voice cracked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. I was convinced that there was no better sight that Spencer right after waking up. The disheveled hair and overall messy appearance was so different than how he presented himself to the rest of the world, and I loved it.

“For us. Here,” I handed him his cup of coffee.

Saying we were happy would be an understatement. Both of us would’ve been content to stay there for the whole day, laughing, talking about whatever came to our minds, just enjoying each other’s presence.

But that’s not the way the universe works. We eventually had to get ready for work – our briefing at 10am was fast approaching.

“Could we stop at the bank really quick before we go in?” I asked as we got into my car. 

“Of course,” he approved.

I put the car into gear and drove to my bank, the soft sounds of the radio filling the otherwise comfortable silence. It was only a minute or two out of the way, and we had a couple minutes to spare before we would be late.

I pulled into a parking spot and left the car running, “I’ll be right back.” I pecked him on the cheek in such a comfortable, domestic way. It was becoming second nature at this point.

“Okay,” Spencer flashed me a tight-lipped smile.

I stood in line to see the teller for what felt like 30 full minutes but was probably only 2 or 3 in reality. An elderly woman in front of me, though kind of adorable in her oldness, was taking forever.

Before my brain could register what was happening, my body hit the ground and crawled behind an armchair in the lobby. Gunfire had erupted by the entrance to the bank.

I smacked my hip where my holster normally rested, but there was nothing there. Fuck, my gun was in the car.

I peeked around the side of the chair to see a man and a woman, both wearing ski masks and shooting bullets into the ceiling to control the bank customers. The woman remained by the front door while the man began rounding up the hostages.

I grabbed my phone and dialed Spencer’s number. Before he had a chance to say anything, I whispered, “call Hotch. The bank is being robbed; t-there’s a man and a woman and they’re taking hostages. Please help, Spen-”

I was interrupted by the barrel of a gun pressing against the back of my head. “Hang up,” the man demanded. “And get over here with the rest of them.”

Every muscle in my body fought the direction my brain gave to stand up, but they lost the fight to my brain. I had to pick my battles, and this was not one of them. He pushed me to walk over to where the other hostages were sitting in a group on the cold stone floor.

“Is this everyone?” The woman asked. She was clearly the one in charge.

“Yep. Bathrooms are empty,” the man responded proudly, like he was a dog begging for a treat. The woman turned to us and shouted, “empty your pockets, now.”

The second they saw my badge, I would be dead. I took the risk and left it in my back pocket, only putting my wallet and phone in front of me.

“Sweetheart, go grab the money, will you?” The woman asked in a gentle voice. From the little I had observed, I could tell she had her partner wrapped around her finger, knowing exactly the words to say to get him to do whatever she asked.

He ordered the manager, a small woman wearing a dark, refined suit with flats to take him to the vault. “I-It’s not gonna open,” she stuttered.

“You need two separate codes to open it. It’s a safety feature,” I interjected.

“How do you know that? You work here?” The woman lazily aimed her gun at my chest.

“No. I used to work at a bank.” I maintained direct eye contact in an attempt to convince her I was telling the truth. I wasn’t, but she seemed to believe me all the same.

“Take her, too,” she gestured with her gun towards another woman, more obviously a bank employee.

Shit. Did I just get two people killed instead of one? No, surely they would keep them alive so they could find a way out of here.

We sat there while they were gone, the woman searching through our belongings as the sounds of police sirens got louder outside. Across from me was a young woman, about my age, trying and failing to shush a screaming baby.

The man returned alone about 10 minutes later carrying a black bag. He dropped it near her feet and was rewarded this time with a sloppy kiss and some R-rated groping.

They were interrupted by the ringing of the phone behind the counter. The woman walked over and answered it innocently just as she would answer her own cell phone. “Hello?... Mmm let me think,” she tapped her finger against her chin as she pretended to think about whatever question the person on the other end asked her. “... No.” She hung up.

The team had to have been here by now, trying to save me from yet another hostage situation. I hoped it was Hotch that called. They’re the only ones that I trust with my fate.

While she was occupied by the call, I turned my attention to the man. Based on typical partner dynamics and what I’ve observed so far, he was the submissive one. He seemed willing to do whatever the woman asked, but only if she made it seem like he was the big, tough man calling all of the shots.

To get out of this, I needed to cause doubt in the relationship and turn him against her. “Shouldn’t the one in charge be answering the phone?”

“I am the one in charge here,” he insisted.

“Then why do you let her undermine you like that?” I could barely hear my own words over the sound of my heart about to beat out of my chest.

“Shut up,” he growled.

“Is it because she’s actually in charge but just lets you think you are?”

“Shut up!” He yelled and struck my forehead with the butt of his gun, causing my upper body to fall backwards to join my lower half on the stone floor.

No one dared help me sit back up out of fear they would be next. I groaned as I sat upright again. I felt my warm blood dripping slowly down my face directly over the freshly healed wounds I got a few months ago.

The unsubs stood together talking near the wall, taking extra care to never be in front of the windows. I had planted the seed of doubt in his mind, so now all I could do was wait.

I watched the minutes tick by on the big clock hanging on the wall behind the counter. 30 minutes. 30 minutes had gone by without either party making a move.

The phone rang. The woman answered it again, to which I immediately looked over to the man, still standing by the wall. He refused my eye contact.

She was visibly upset during the call, ending it by ripping off her ski mask and slamming the phone into the receiver so hard I’m surprised it didn’t break.

“What are you doing? Put your mask back on,” her partner implored.

“It doesn’t matter, they know who we are. They’re watching us right now.” She nodded towards the security camera near the ceiling before turning to the hostages and shouting, “so, who wants to have some fun?”

They both laughed maniacally as she instructed all of us to strip down to our underwear.

Were they both sexual sadists? Could they only get off by humiliating of others in public? Or were her needs taking priority as the dominant partner, with the man just following her lead? Have they done this before, or is this an escalation from their previous patterns?

My mind raced through the pain as I sat there, refusing to take my clothes off. “Take ‘em off,” the man demanded, waving the gun in my face to intimidate me.

“No,” I protested. I crossed my arms across my stomach and scratched at them lightly. I was pushing my luck, but if I took off my pants, they would find my badge in my back pocket. It was a lose-lose situation.

He yanked my arm so I would stand up, then held the gun directly to the old woman’s temple. “Do it or she dies.”

I was backed into a corner. The only way out was to follow his demands, so I slowly started unbuttoning my shirt and undressing.

Everyone’s eyes were either glued to the ground or closed completely. They would be forced to remember the sounds of this day, but at least they could close their eyes and have one less sense burned into their memories.

“Thank you, Princess.” He forced me back down to my knees. The next thing I heard was a gunshot resonating throughout the room. Blood splatter sprayed all over my body, my ears rang, tears formed in my eyes. He killed her anyway. He shot the little old lady that was taking a long time at the teller in front of me. No. I shot her. I got cocky and didn’t think about the lives of the other innocent hostages here with me. It was my fault. There were now three bodies on my hands.

“And let that be a lesson for anyone else who decides to talk back.” He grabbed my clothes to throw into the pile with the others. I winced as my badge fell out of my back pocket. Fuck.

He picked it up and flipped it open. “Well, well, well, what do we have here? Little Miss FBI Agent?”

The woman unsub approached and grinned at the sight of my credentials. “Leverage.”

I must’ve looked so pathetic, blood and tears mixing as they met on my cheeks. I was trained for situations like this; building profiles and using them to talk down killers. But I was failing. I failed.

The man pulled the woman towards him and held her. Putting on her best show, she politely suggested, “next time you shoot someone, don’t go for the kill shot. It’s more fun to watch them bleed out.”

He didn’t look convinced, so she begged, “please? For me?”

He nodded before she continued, “I’m gonna go find another way out of here, you watch them.”

This was my chance. The woman was going to leave. I had to get some of these people out of here. “When I tell you, you’re gonna get up and run out of the front doors. Don’t hesitate and don’t look back,” I whispered to anyone that could hear me without alerting the unsubs.

Just as I hoped, the phone rang while the woman was gone, forcing the man to answer it. He set his gun down on the counter and turned his back to us.

“Go.” The hostages jumped up and sprinted out of the doors.

Three of us weren’t so lucky. Two of them laid face down just beyond the first set of doors, not moving. Five bodies on my hands. Five people who would never go home to their families and friends, would never laugh, cry, or talk again. Five lives that were gone because of me.

My body registered the pain to my abdomen as I rolled onto my back. My hands moved of their own accord, feeling the gunshot wound to my stomach. And for the third time in my life, I thought of a poem:

'Because I could not stop for death   
He kindly stopped for me;  
The carriage held but just ourselves   
And Immortality."

But the difference now compared to the past two times I’ve thought of this poem was that I didn’t want to get into the chariot. I didn’t want to join Death for the rest of eternity. This time, I had something to live for – I had Spencer.

The first person to bust through the front doors was him, and he didn’t hesitate to shoot the male unsub.

Spencer fell to his knees in the pool of my blood. “Y/n. Oh god, y/n. You’re alright, everything’s gonna be alright.” His hands pressed down on my wound to try and stop the bleeding.

I was struggling to keep my eyes opened, but I managed to mumble between labored breaths, “Spence, I need to tell you something.” A single tear fell down my cheek.

“No. Not here, you’ll tell me later once you’re better,” he pleaded.

“I need for you to hear it once in case I don’t make it. S-Spencer Reid... I-I’m in love with you,” I choked.

Those were my last words to him.

It was such a privilege to be able to love him, even if for such a short period of time. I know I was slow to open up, and he probably deserved more than I could ever give him, but I vowed to spend the rest of my life trying to be better for him. To fight every day for the chance to love him, to grow with him, to exist with him. He made me the best version of myself.

I had always wanted to live a remarkable life. I wanted to accomplish so much, to have a family whom I loved, but mostly I just wanted to be remembered. I just wanted one person to remember me after I was gone. This remarkable life with Spencer was just within my grasp but was so violently torn away at the last second.

Whether my life ended now or 60 years from now, that was up to the universe. Maybe just this once it would choose to be kind instead of cruel.


	18. EIGHTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spencer's POV of ch. 17  
> warning: gun violence, blood, death/dying

“I’ll be right back,” y/n smiled and hopped out of the car.

Her music was still playing over the speakers as I sat in the passenger seat and watched the traffic pass by through the car window. I typically only listened to classical music, but I liked hers too. I liked everything about her.

The sound of my phone ringing brought me out of my thoughts. It was y/n’s ringtone. She had set a special one for her number weeks ago so that any time I heard it I would know it was her. I joked (a rare occurrence, but I couldn’t help it) that then I would immediately know not to answer my phone.

I answered it, but before I could say anything, she whispered, “call Hotch. The bank is being robbed; t-there’s a man and a woman and they’re taking hostages. Please help, Spen-”

And then nothing. “Y/n! Do you have your gun? Are you okay?” I yelled until the dial tone sounded. I fumbled with my phone, dropping it between my feet before I finally dialed Hotch’s number.

“SSA Aaron Hotchner.”

“Hotch, there’s a bank robbery in progress at the Wells Fargo on 600 Maryland Ave. They’re holding hostages and... y/n is one of them.”

“How do you know? Has the police been dispatched?” he asked.

“I-I’m outside. I was waiting in the car. She called me but I don’t know if the police are coming,” I stuttered.

“I’ll gather the team. We’re on our way. And Spencer, do not go in until we get there. Do you understand me?”

“Yes, I understand. Please hurry,” I begged. I know I won’t be able to handle losing y/n after I finally got her. I finally told her how I felt, and we were happy.

The police, SWAT, and all of the available FBI agents in a 5-mile radius descended on the scene within minutes. The team, including Garcia, arrived a short while later. She wasted no time setting up in the surveillance van and hacking into the security feed.

“She’ll be okay, Spencer,” Prentiss placed her hand on my shoulder to try and comfort me. It didn’t work; the only thing that could bring me comfort right now is seeing y/n alive.

I stayed right by Garcia’s side, watching the events unfold inside.

“Garcia, we need to open up a secure line of communication,” Hotch ordered.

I couldn’t focus on anything but the sight of y/n sitting on the ground with the other hostages. Seeing her didn’t bring as much comfort as I had hoped. She was still in there, defenseless. I would’ve done anything to trade places with her. She didn’t deserve any more hurt in this lifetime.

I examined every inch of the computer screen as she talked to the male unsub. He soon left the screen with two women: I’m assuming bank employees. “Garcia, can you pull up any other cameras inside?”

“It’s almost like you don’t know me.” With a couple presses of her keyboard, another security camera popped up on the screen and showed the man in the vault shoving stacks of cash into a duffel bag. Two lifeless bodies laid on the ground next to him.

Seemingly content with the amount of money he collected, the man went back to the lobby.

Hotch stood right next to me as he spoke with the woman unsub, yet I didn’t hear a single word he said. All I saw was the end of the man’s gun connecting with y/n’s face, sending her unconscious to the floor.

“Fuck!” I screamed as I pounded my closed fist on the table. I never got angry like this at work. To be fair, I never had a reason to be this angry before today.

The last words I heard her say were begging me to help her. But I wasn’t. I was standing here like a coward watching her get beaten. When we were both held hostage at the cult compound I couldn’t help, and I know that. There were guns to my head last time, but there aren’t now, and yet I’m still not doing anything to help her.

“Reid, out. Now.” The woman had already hung up on Hotch before my outburst.

“No! I can’t leave. I-I need to see this,” I yelled back, the uncontrollable rage bubbling just beneath my skin. I knew that allowing my emotions to take control would cloud any semblance of judgment I had when it came to y/n, but I didn’t care. The anger felt too good.

“C’mon, Spence,” JJ lightly wrapped her hand around my bicep and pulled me outside. “I know this is hard. It’s hard on everyone, but we have to stay calm if we want to help y/n.”

“No, JJ, you don’t understand. You’re not the reason she’s in there alone. I am.” I sat on the curb and held my face in my hands, the anger turning to defeat. I didn’t want her to see the tears that were forming in my eyes. “I should’ve gone in with her,” I mumbled. “Just... I want to be alone. Please leave me alone.”

She knew me well enough that she just turned around and left without saying another word.

The logical side of my brain convinced the emotional side that this rage I was feeling, though it soothed me in a peculiar way, wouldn’t help me save y/n. I took a few deep breaths and shut the images of y/n collapsing to the floor out of my mind. At least he didn’t shoot her.

I sat there for a long time, only wanting to get up after I completely collected my thoughts. Finally, I wiped the tears still lingering in my eyes and walked back to join the team.

I gave Hotch a small nod as I entered as if to say, “I’m sorry, it won’t happen again.”

By the time I returned, they had figured out who the two unsubs were. Elizabeth Lahey and Johnny Kellerman. Both had extensive criminal histories of grand theft auto, armed robbery, and more – their rap sheet went on and on. In addition to that, they were listed as suspects in other bank robberies in the greater D.C. metro area.

Hotch called a second time. During the conversation, he alluded to things about Lahey’s life that he would only know from an extensive background check.

She didn’t let him get far before I watched her slam the phone into the receiver and rip off her mask. She started shouting at the hostages, most of whom kept their eyes on the ground like they weren’t even listening.

“Can we get any sound on this?” I asked Garcia.

“No, these cameras don’t record audio – only video,” she responded immediately.

I felt the blood drain from my body. The hostages started removing their clothes, but y/n was just sitting there, arms crossed. She tried to act tough, but I immediately recognized the unintentional scratching of her arms as her nervousness peeking through. Don’t be stupid, y/n. Please just do whatever they say.

“Oh-oh my god, what are they doing? I can’t watch,” Garcia mumbled as she twisted around in her chair, refusing to watch the monitor my eyes were glued to.

Kellerman raised his gun to an elderly woman’s head. He likely threatened her life for y/n’s compliance, because immediately afterwards, y/n began to undress.

“I’m going in.” I grabbed a vest and strapped it on my chest before charging outside. I heard Hotch shout something as I left, but Morgan and Prentiss followed me anyways. I motioned for SWAT to trail behind us.

We were within 10 feet of the front door when the hostages ran out, chased by bullets. I scanned for y/n, but she wasn’t here. She was still inside.

The second the hostages cleared them, I raised my gun and swung open the shattered glass doors. There were two bodies lying between the two sets of doors. Stopping to check their pulse would leave me too vulnerable for too long, so I stepped over them. Neither of them was the person I needed to see.

I saw Kellerman, standing in the open in front of the counter. I shot him without a second thought, before he had a chance to pull the trigger on me.

My eyes searched the room for any signs of y/n.

My eyes locked onto her. There she was, on her back, a dozen feet from the entrance. Her right hand was gripping her unclothed stomach, the crimson red blood pooling at her side.

I holstered my gun and ran to her. “Y/n. Oh god, y/n. You’re alright, everything’s gonna be alright.” I pressed my hands as firmly on her wound as I could to try and stop the bleeding.

“Spence, I need to tell you something,” she groaned in between her shallow breaths. A single tear rolled down her cheek as her eyes struggled to stay open.

“No. Not here, you’ll tell me later once you’re better.” Denial is a powerful thing.

“I need for you to hear it once in case I don’t make it. S-Spencer Reid... I-I’m in love with you.” Her eyes fell shut and didn’t open again.

Studies have shown that the brain can register emotional heartbreak as physical pain. When such heartbreak happens, the high levels of dopamine and oxytocin in the brain maintained during love drop suddenly and are replaced by cortisol. High levels of that stress hormone cause feelings of anxiety, nausea, and general pain, and can be localized to the chest, abdomen, or diffused throughout the whole body.

My cortisol levels skyrocketed in this moment. “No, y/n. Stay with me, please. I-I love you, please don’t leave me. Not yet,” I begged. Tears flowed down my face.

“Sir, you need to move so we can help her,” a paramedic suddenly materialized next to me.

I gripped one of her limp hands in between my two that were covered in her blood. They did everything they could to stop the bleeding before lifting her up on the stretcher and rushing her outside to the ambulance.

I was next to her, gripping her hand the entire way, running past Hotch and Rossi who were questioning a couple hostages without so much as a glance. Selfishly, I wanted my hand to be the last thing she touched, whether she knew it or not.

The sirens blared overhead while we sped to the hospital. Her face was unrecognizable under the layers of dried blood, but I knew that the woman I loved was still in there somewhere. She would never be the same when she woke up. She would wake up.

I sat frozen in the back of the ambulance for a few seconds after y/n’s hand was ripped from mine as she was rolled into the hospital. I jogged after her but was stopped short by a nurse. “Sir, you can’t go back there.”

“But-”

“Wait in the lobby over here and someone will be out to update you as soon as they know anything.”

I stared blankly at the double doors that had just swallowed y/n, possibly forever. I raised my hands and rubbed my eyes. Part of me was hoping that similar to being pinched to wake up from a dream, rubbing my eyes would wake me from this nightmare. When I opened them back up, I was still standing here, in a hospital, the love of my life in critical condition... it didn’t work.

It was then that I realized my hands felt kind of sticky. I looked down and saw that there wasn’t a square centimeter of my skin showing through her blood. I felt sick to my stomach.

I ran to the nearest bathroom I could find, threw open a stall door, and promptly threw up the breakfast that y/n had made me just a few hours ago. A few hours ago. It only took a few hours for the best thing in my life to be destroyed.

This is probably the point at which she would spout off something about how ‘the universe is always in control,’ or that it ‘has its reasons.’ But whatever cruel intentions the universe had right now, I didn’t want to know them.

Left shaking from the dry heaving, I ripped off a piece of toilet paper and wiped the leftover vomit from my chin. I flushed my breakfast down the toilet and washed my hands.

The water instantly turned red from the blood. I got handful after handful of soap, but no matter how much I used or how hard I scrubbed, the water never seemed to run clear. Tears dripped from my eyes and circled down the drain with the still colored water.

“Reid? Hey, Reid! Stop it, you’re hurting yourself!” Morgan yanked my hands apart and turned off the sink.

I looked at his reflection in the mirror before settling on mine. My eyes were red and puffy, cheeks soaked with tears, forehead smeared with blood. I glanced down at my hands, unaware of how red and scratched I had made them from the scrubbing.

“Kid, I’m so sorry. I know you two are close,” he expressed softly, which was uncharacteristic of him.

“Morgan... w-what if she dies?” I naively thought that if my eyes didn’t meet his, he wouldn’t be able to look at me and see the hurt painted across my face.

“She won’t; she’s strong. Hell, she might even be stronger than you, pretty boy,” he jabbed my side with his elbow.

His attempt to cheer me up surprisingly worked, a smile tugging at the corner of my mouth. That slight distraction didn’t last long as Hotch poked his head through the cracked door. “The Doctors have an update.”


	19. NINETEEN

“Hi,” I breathed, my eyes not yet open.

Spencer stopped mid-sentence and jumped up to stand next to my bed. “How are you feeling? Can I get something for you?”

I barely opened my eyes, the fluorescent bulbs still too bright for my retinas. I didn’t answer either question, instead choosing to pose my own, “what were you reading?”

Spencer blushed, “Anna Karenina... I went and got it from your place, I’m sorry. I-I just thought that you’d want to pick up where you left off.”

“Thank you,” I said softly. “For reading to me and... f-for being here.”

He reached his hand to tenderly hold the side of my face, his thumb brushing lightly against my cheek. “There’s no place I would rather be. I love you, y/n.”

I turned my head as much as it would allow so I could place a kiss on his palm before confessing, “I love you, too.” His eyes seemed to look right through me, deep into the recesses of my mind. My aversion to vulnerability begged me to look away, but I refused. I gazed right back.

That is, until Garcia knocked and came in the room with a way-too-energetic flair for being surrounded by sick people. “Hello, my sweet, sweet, y/n! How are you?”

I winced at the volume of her voice and started to respond, but she promptly cut me off and began taking out little figurines and stuffed animals from her bag, placing them on every available surface in the room. “I brought you some things from my office. They always cheer me up, so I thought they might make you feel better too.”

“Thanks, Pen,” I smiled as big as I could bear. It was a sweet gesture, but the clutter in the room was already getting on my nerves a bit. I was by no means a minimalist – evidenced by all of the stuff in my apartment, but this was just a lot. Then again, maybe I was just an asshole.

JJ and Emily walked in soon after. They must’ve been talking to the doctors or something. Spencer fidgeted his hands a bit, growing slightly uncomfortable with his continued presence in the room. “I uh- I’m gonna go grab some food; I’ll let you guys catch up.” His eyes flashed a goodbye to mine, but I knew he would be back as soon as they left.

“So, how long was I asleep?” I had absolutely no idea about what time it was, other than there wasn’t any sunlight coming through the blinds. Hopefully Garcia brought a clock, too.

“Two days,” JJ answered. “And Spence has been here the whole time.” Her grin implied there was some other reason that he would stay here with me.

“Oh, I just got shot and you’re already interrogating me about Spencer? Don’t act like he wouldn’t do the same if any of you were in my position.” I waved off her silent accusation, but my defensiveness and blush that was creeping up my cheeks paved the way for more questions.

“Hey, Em?” Garcia pondered.

“Mhm?” Prentiss responded with a fake innocence.

“Would Reid hold my face and stroke my cheek and look at me all lovey-dovey if I was in the hospital?”

Shit. I thought she hadn’t seen that. I closed my eyes in embarrassment.

“As much as he loves you, I think only Derek would do that,” she quipped. “Y/n?”

“Sorry, can’t hear you. I’m sleeping.” A tight smile formed on my face, which I quickly squashed as I began to fake snore. After a minute, I eased up on the fake snoring, but kept my eyes closed. They continued to talk while I actually did drift asleep.

\----

(A week and a half later)

“Stay right there.” Spencer hopped out of the driver’s seat of my car and grabbed the bag of my clothes he had brought to the hospital for me from the trunk. I watched him through the side mirror as he slung the bag over his shoulder and came to open my door.

He wrapped his arm around my back and helped me out of the car. I protested slightly at his touch, wanting to walk myself. Until, however, I saw the stairs outside of my apartment, seeming to stretch all the way up into the clouds.

I took each step, one at a time, resting both of my feet on the same stair before attempting the next one. He unlocked my front door and dropped my bag just inside the threshold. With both hands now free, he held both sides of my hips and guided me back to my bedroom.

A sharp pain shot throughout my abdomen after I laid down on the bed a little too swiftly, leading my face to tighten up in a wince. “Hey, Spence?”

“Mhm?” He hummed as he sat on the edge of the bed, taking off his worn converse.

“Can we order a pizza? I’m starving for anything other than hospital food.” The pain was dulling with each new day, but I still needed to take it easy, though. I would probably still be recovering from the wound – physical and emotional – for years to come, and I understood that.

He smiled at me and laid back onto the bed, presumably so he could wiggle his phone out of his pocket easier. He held it above his face and dialed the number. I watched his fingers press the keys until the phone fell to his face with a smack, followed by him groaning.

I erupted into a fit of laughter, the shaking of my body causing the pain to my stomach to increase. “Ow, ow, Spence you can’t make me laugh like that,” I giggled as I clutched the source of the pain.

“I’m glad you find such amusement in my pain, my love.” He rolled onto his stomach, feet still dangling off the edge of the bed, and put the phone up to his ear to order the pizza.

Heat rose to my face at the sound of what he just called me. I slowly crawled over to him and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, then his forehead, then the tip of his nose, making my way around his face until he finally hung up. He didn’t waste any time throwing his phone to the other side of the bed and meeting my lips with his.

His kiss was compassionate, soft, shy, as if he was afraid one wrong move would shatter me like glass. I held my hand up to his cheek, but it felt wet under my touch. Confused, I pulled back and looked at him.

His eyes remained closed, a single tear falling down the left side of his face. I was wrong. His fear wasn’t directed towards me – he was afraid of himself breaking under the contact.

“Spence, what’s wrong?” I hooked my finger under his chin so that when he opened his eyes, he would be looking directly into mine.

“It’s just...” he seemed to contemplate his next words carefully before continuing, “I-I just don’t think I would’ve been able to survive if I lost you.” His voice cracked as tears continued to stream down his face.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” His eyes opened to meet mine, but instead of their usual warmth, they were darker and cloudy. “You will never lose me. Part of me will always belong to you.” The clouds receded slightly, allowing some sun to shine through, so I continued. “You know, a beautiful genius once told me ‘No one can ever truly disappear when we still have our memories of them.’” I quoted his own words at him.

“Promise?”

“Promise.” I gave him a soft smile. After a short pause and an obvious lift in the mood, I joked “also, from now on, I will only be answering to ‘my love.’”

He chuckled and rubbed his eyes, rolling over into my outstretched arms. We remained in that position, I the big spoon and him the small spoon, for a while with nothing but the sounds of our breathing filling the room.

Spencer was the first to break the silence, but he spoke so quietly that I wasn’t sure if he was talking until he almost finished. “So, does that mean you’re my girlfriend?”

“That means I’m whatever you want me to be,” I whispered back. His silence indicated that wasn’t the answer he was looking for. “Yes,” I said conclusively.

There was a knock at the door. “Nose goes!” I shouted as I pressed my pointer finger to my nose.

“No fair! There’s only two of us!” He pouted as he sat up and faced me.

“Sorry, I don’t make the rules, I just follow them,” I teased.

“Ugh, fine,” he huffed out of the room to answer the door as if there was ever a world in which he would make me go get it.

Things felt as normal as they had ever been when we were sitting on my bed eating. I had almost forgotten the events of the past week but was harshly reminded every time Spencer caused me to laugh a bit too hard.

“Can I ask you something? How were you able to take so much time off of work? I mean, I know what our job is like, and I’m assuming the team is still going on cases. Serial killers don’t exactly take the day off,” I said in between bites.

His Adam’s apple bobbed in his throat as he swallowed. “I uh- I’ve been helping with cases remotely while you were sleeping. I didn’t know how to tell you, but um, Hotch actually needs me back at the BAU tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, yeah okay, that makes sense.” I couldn’t control the sadness in my voice. I knew he would have to go back soon, but tomorrow? I just got home today.

No. I stopped myself. I vowed to never be selfish with Spencer, so I searched for any sort of silver lining I could find. I settled on the fact that at least he was here now, and we still had the whole night to ourselves.

We finished our slices and he helped me change into an oversized t-shirt and some running shorts. He packed a bag for himself when he was practically living at the hospital with me, so he changed into his pajamas – a pair of fuzzy Halloween pajama pants and a crewneck.

We slid under my comforter, and he took his position propped up on the pillows while I rested my head on his chest. “Do you know what movie we should watch?” I asked as he flicked through the channels on the TV.

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“Into the Wild,” I smirked, referencing the conversation we had the night of our first kiss. It felt like so long ago; so much has happened in these past couple months. We’ve watched a myriad of movies since that weird Russian one, but had never made our way to my suggestion.

He handed me the remote and I put on the movie. It opened to a black screen with a quote by Lord Byron:

"There is a pleasure in the pathless woods;   
There is a rapture on the lonely shore;   
There is society, where none intrudes,  
By the deep sea, and music in its roar:  
I love not man the less, but Nature more..."

Beautiful, folksy guitar played in the background as footage of a train, probably in Alaska due to the snow and mountainous landscape, flashed on the screen. I looked up at him so I could gauge his reaction to the opening scenes. I’ve seen this movie countless times, so I knew what was happening just by listening.

I admired his sharp jawline, covered in a light stubble, his cute little nose, and his tight lips, which curled up into a slight smile. His eyes remained on the screen as he questioned, “I thought you said you wanted to watch this?”

“Mmm, I think I’d rather watch you watch it.” I could watch Spencer do just about anything, but the thought of watching him watch one of my favorite movies? I couldn’t resist.

“If you insist,” he leaned his head down and placed a kiss on top of my head before returning his attention to the movie. The hand that was perched on my hip raised and began running through my hair.

I grinned and closed my eyes at the soothing feeling of his fingers detangling the tiny knots that had formed in my hair.

\----

I awoke the next morning to Spencer placing a small kiss on my forehead. “Good morning, my love.” My new nickname rolled off of his lips like honey.

“Good morning, pretty boy,” I sighed as I nuzzled further into his chest. It had to be around 6am, the time that he normally woke up to go into work. That meant that I was sleeping for almost 12 hours, but that still wasn’t enough – I was exhausted.

“I have to get ready,” he whispered.

“No,” I pouted, swinging my leg over his. “Please? I don’t want you to leave me.” I was too tired to fight my selfish thoughts.

“5 more minutes, okay? And then I really do have to get up.” He squeezed his arms around me tighter.

“Okay, fine,” I sulked, but figured I should take whatever I could get.

Those next 5 minutes passed in the blink of an eye, probably because I was just dozing off again as I felt him slide out from under me and leave the bed. I watched him as he disappeared into my bathroom, returning a short while later dressed for work but with damp hair flopping in his eyes.

He leaned onto the bed and gave me one last kiss. I could smell the fresh scent of my shampoo and warm vanilla lotion on his skin. My heart filled with an intense warmth at the thought that even though he had his own toiletries with him, he still chose to use mine just so that he might smell like me for a day.

“I’ll be back tonight. Promise me you’ll take it easy?”

“I will, I will. Now get outta here, Hotch won’t be happy if you’re late.” I pulled him down by his tie for one last goodbye kiss. “I love you,” I whispered.

“I love you, too.” He grabbed his bag and left. 

I’ll never get tired of hearing him say that.


	20. TWENTY

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning: blood

It was a sunny spring day, the landscape finally thawing from the harsh cold of winter. I was standing in a field, surrounded by tall grasses, wildflowers, and the occasional bumble bee. Everything seemed happier here. I felt like a child, unburdened by responsibilities and worries of the world.

I looked down and saw that I was wearing a flowy green sundress patterned with little white flowers. I smiled – this is exactly like one I had when I was a teenager.

I began to walk through the field, wanting to see what was just beyond the hill in front of me. As I stepped, one foot in front of the other, the wildflowers began to morph into roses. The thorns on the bushes cut at my legs, drawing blood everywhere they scratched. A certain uneasiness settled over me, but something forced me to ignore the blood staining my dress and continue to walk.

I reached the top of the hill but was only met with another seemingly endless field of roses. Roses aren’t normally in fields, are they?

“Stop and smell the flowers,” a voice thundered from above me.

I obliged – I had no reason other than my slight discomfort not to. I crouched down, closing my eyes and letting the sweet scent fill my nostrils. The fragrance I had avoided for so many years eased my tensions and provided a strange comfort.

When I opened my eyes back up, I was no longer in the field. The roses that had so recently surrounded me were replaced with ropes, tied around my wrists and ankles. The grass under my feet becoming a cool metal table to which I was secured.

“Hello? Is anybody here? Someone, help me!” I shouted into the void now surrounding me, tugging on my restraints.

Five apparitions appeared at my side. The old lady, the two bank employees, and the two hostages that didn’t make it out. Their clothes were covered in little holes from where the bullets had hit them, the old woman with a single hole in her temple. Fresh blood poured out of them, but they all just stood and watched me with expressionless faces. “You did this to us,” the elderly woman stated in a monotone voice.

“No, I’m sorry, please untie me, please help,” I begged.

“You couldn’t even help them...” she gestured to my left. I followed her pointed finger to see three people standing on the opposite side of the dark, empty room. A man, a woman, and a teenaged boy. Their throats were slashed from ear to ear and dried blood caked their bodies, but when I looked at their faces to see who they were, they were blank. They were faceless. “...so why should we help you?”

I shot straight up, uncontrollable sobs already fighting their way out of my chest. I felt like I was drowning in my own sweat, but I wasn’t under the covers. I pulled my knees into my chest and rocked, hoping the movement would soothe the hyperventilating and violent shaking of my upper body.

It was just a bad dream. You’re okay. It was just a bad dream. You’re okay.

I repeated that mantra in my head, but it didn’t help, so I reached for my phone on the nightstand while I continued to rock.

“Y/n?” Spencer mumbled, the sleep evident in his voice. He had gone into work for the first time since the shooting earlier this morning. He said he would be back tonight, but they got pulled on a case and he had to leave. So, I was alone.

I didn’t say anything, instead choosing to let my cries bleed through the silence.

“Y/n? What’s going on? What’s wrong?” His voice grew more urgent the longer it took me to respond.

“I-I’m scared,” I managed to whimper in between sobs. “I h-had a bad dream and... I’m scared, Spence.”

“Just focus on your breathing. Take deep breaths, y/n, you’ll be okay. Do you wanna tell me what happened?” He sounded fully awake now. I felt guilty for interrupting what little sleep I know he gets every night for such a childish reason.

“No, can- I just needed to hear your voice.”

“Do you want me to read to you?” he softly asked.

“Y-yes.” Even without being here, he knew exactly how to calm me down. By this point, the few words he said had already distracted me enough so that I stopped rocking, and the blubbering had turned to a silent flow of tears.

“Okay, my love, tell me where to start. You’re still reading Anna Karenina, correct?”

I grabbed my book from the drawer of my nightstand and opened it to my bookmark. “Mhm. I’m on Part Four, XVIII.”

“And now, when he had come to know her, to love her as he ought to have loved her, he had been humiliated before her and had lost her forever, leaving her with nothing but a disgraceful memory of himself.” Spencer recited the words from memory as I followed along in my copy of the book.

\----

I was curled up on the couch under my favorite dark green fluffy blanket in the same spot I plopped down in hours earlier. I spent most of my days either on the couch or in my bed, moving to the other when I got tired of where I was. I ordered takeout for basically every meal, only standing up to reheat leftovers, answer the door for more food, or use the bathroom. Watching the entire Twilight series multiple times in a row was hard work, after all.

Spencer was still gone on the case and I had no idea when he would be back. His love had become as essential to my existence as breathing, so this time apart was torturous. Whoever said absence makes the heart grow fonder was a liar.

We talked every night, but not under my preferred circumstances. I had a slight variation of the same nightmare anytime I closed my eyes. It didn’t even have to be nighttime – I tried to take a nap once a couple days ago and had the same visions. We had made it about 100 pages further since the first night he read to me.

But right now, I had just started the Twilight saga over again and was a little over halfway through the first movie. At this point, I knew just about every word, so I quoted the lines along with it between bites of my room temperature lo mein.

I heard the soft jingling of keys outside of my door as Claire De Lune played on the TV. Spencer was back!

I jumped up as fast as I could and whipped open the front door before he had a chance to. I threw myself into his arms, almost knocking both of us to the ground. “Hi, my love,” he smirked into the crook of my neck.

He picked me up by my waist and carried me through the door, kicking it shut with his foot and dropping his go bag to the floor.

My legs wrapped around his lower back as he walked over to the couch and sat us down. “You know, you’ll have to let go of me eventually.”

“No, thanks.” I pulled my head back but kept my arms hooked around his neck as I straddled him. “I missed ya.”

“I missed you too,” he whispered, looking directly into my eyes. “But please tell me you watched something other than Twilight while I was gone.”

I immediately blushed and swung my leg off of him to sit next to him on the couch. “Yeah, uh, I watched other movies, too.” I honestly don’t know why I bothered lying; he knew immediately. But thankfully, he let me have this one.

The comforting sounds of “Supermassive Black Hole” and the baseball scene filled my tiny living room as we sat on the couch, Spencer’s arm around my shoulders. I rested my hand on his thigh for a moment before tracing random designs into the fabric of his pants.

He shifted a bit under my touch as I slowly dragged my fingertips up his leg until I finally palmed his rapidly growing erection through his slacks.

“Y/n, we can’t,” he coughed.

“But it’s been three whole weeks,” I begged.

“23 days, 22 hours, 17 minutes since the last time, actually.” He didn’t even look at the time on his watch. He just knew.

I looked down at my watch to try and calculate it for myself, but the mental math was too much for me, so I gave up. “Okay, so it’s been over three weeks, even better.”

His free hand grabbed both of my wrists and stopped my hands from undoing his belt buckle. “The doctors haven’t cleared you yet, y/n. It’s not a good idea.”

“Fine,” I huffed. “I’ll just do it myself.” I watched his bewildered face as I snaked one hand under the elastic waistband of my pajama pants, and the other up my oversized t-shirt.

“Y/n, I-” he breathed.

“What? You like what you see?” I cut him off. I knew exactly what I was doing to him – I could see it in his dilated pupils, his now sizable tent in his pants, and hear it in his rapid breathing.

“Take off your clothes,” he growled in the voice I was hoping to hear.

“Only if you take yours off too.” He wouldn’t let me touch him, but it would take little convincing to get him to touch himself. I reveled in the power I had over him as we both undressed there on the couch.

I lifted one leg, bent at the knee, and rested it against the back of the couch, giving him a perfect view of what I was doing. I turned on the theatrics for the rest of my performance, being as loud as I possibly could, making noise at every moment.

I dragged my fingers up my slit, collecting the wetness that had already begun to pool. Sighing with every rotation my finger made around my clit, I watched Spencer take his hard dick in his hand and begin pumping in sync with my moans.

I dipped two fingers down inside of me and plunged them in and out. The hand that was on my breast went to rest on Spencer’s chest. I needed to touch him somehow. Contrary to what was normally the case, though, he didn’t look me in the eyes. His were instead watching every movement my hands made.

It didn’t take long to feel that heat bubbling in my abdomen – the good kind. After all, I had gotten pretty good at doing this before Spencer came around. He was the first person to ever really satisfy me in this way.

“Do you wish it was your fingers inside of me?” I sighed. He nodded, “y-yes,” as he continued stroking himself.

“Then make me cum, Spence.” My fingers had barely retracted before his thrusted into me. He thumbed my clit as his fingers curled into me with every push. His eyes flashed up to gaze directly into mine. There they were. I got lost in the brightness of stare as I came undone around his fingers, crying out his name. The two weeks of pent-up energy washed over me while he continued finger fucking me through my orgasm, causing my legs to shake.

“Your turn.” I pushed his hands off of me and kneeled on the couch in front of him. My tongue dragged up the underside of his dick. I slowly took him in my mouth.

“Y/n... please,” he moaned. His hips bucked up, causing me to gag around his dick as it hit the back of my throat. “S-sorry,” he apologized.

I couldn’t speak, so instead I took him just as deep as if to tell him “it’s alright.” My tongue flattened on the under his dick, my head bobbing up and down, eliciting a continual string of moans mixed with my name to fall from his lips.

His hands gripped my hair and guided my head up and down on him. I let him take control of me, in that moment giving myself to him as nothing more than a mouth.

The light brown eyes that looked down at me, however, told a different story. They shone with brightness of a thousand stars and held only love for me.

I watched him as he came in my mouth, shooting his warm cum down my throat. I swallowed every drop and joined him on the couch.

I kissed him soft and gentle. Neither of us wanted to rush – we didn’t want to be anywhere else than right here, on this couch, together. I’m not sure who broke the kiss first, but when it did, I whispered, “I am so in love with you, Spencer Reid.”

I don’t think I would ever get tired of saying that. I was so afraid of this feeling for so long, but now that I’ve fully allowed myself to experience it, I never wanted it to end. It’s as if each time I said it, more weight was lifted off of my shoulders. Like every time I said it was the first time.

“I’m in love with you, too, my love.”

And every time I heard it was the first time, too.


	21. TWENTY ONE

“Welcome back, hot stuff,” Morgan patted me on the shoulder. “Just in time for a new case.”

“My lucky day,” I smiled and set my stuff down at my desk, following Morgan up to the conference room where everyone was already gathered.

I entered to smiles and greetings from the team and settled down in my normal chair next to Spencer. “Welcome back, y/n,” Spencer smirked, not looking up from the case file in front of him. He said it as if we didn’t drive here together or haven’t been spending every single moment together (when he wasn’t on a case) for the past month.

Hotch came into the room and took his seat. “Good to have you back, y/l/n. Let’s get started.” He motioned for Garcia to start presenting the case.

“Anchorage field office is asking us to investigate a series of murders in Franklin, Alaska. It’s their first murder investigation on record.” She clicked through maps and pictures on the screen.

“How many victims?” I asked.

“Three so far. There’s a new one every two days,” she stated.

“Alright, everyone, it’s a long flight. We’ll brief more on the jet. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch announced as we stood up and filed out.

Much to our surprise, Spencer and I were the first two on the jet. We took the two seats on the jet where when we were in the air, no one would be able to see us over the backs of the chair. That is, hoping someone didn’t sit down directly across from us.

I leaned over him to look out of the small cabin window to watch crews de-ice the wings. This December in D.C. was colder than normal – and there was no end in sight. Spencer took advantage of the close proximity of our faces. He hooked his finger under my jaw and pulled my lips to his. It was a hurried kiss – rightfully so, because someone else could board the jet at any moment.

But as seems the case with us lately, we became completely entranced in each other’s presence and lost track of time and space. We both would’ve been happy to stay there, lips locked, but that’s not the way the universe works.

Rossi cleared his throat.

Fuck. Spencer and I flew apart like shrapnel, the other instantaneously becoming repulsive. That’s what it looked like, at least.

My face flushed a deep red color, one that matched Spencer’s crimson tie. I didn’t look at Spencer, instead craning my neck to see Rossi with a reprimanding, but somehow excited look on his face.

“It’s about time, you two! I’ll keep your secret, but you might want to stop before the rest of them get here, or else I won’t have to.” He walked to the other side of the jet where he always sat with Hotch.

It was a long ass flight. Almost 11 full hours stuck on the jet. Spencer and I spent basically all of it reading. My head rested on his shoulder as he flipped through the pages, but he would only turn it after I squeezed his bicep to indicate I was done.

Garcia was coming with us this time because the internet in small town Alaska wasn’t always the most reliable. Her computer skills carried about half of the work this team did, and we couldn’t solve anything without her. So, due to limited seating, her and Morgan had ended up sitting across from us. I was kind of grateful for that, though – it kept Spencer and me in line.

\----

We gathered in the lobby of the lodge we were staying at, me the last to walk in. My tardiness meant all of the seats on the native patterned couches and chairs were all taken. I settled for the position to stand behind where Spencer was sitting on the couch. I rested my forearms on the back of the couch on either side of his head.

I zoned out listening to Derek and Penelope’s flirtatious chatting and Rossi trying to explain the recipe to his favorite pasta dish to Prentiss and JJ.

Spencer leaned his head back to look up at me, flashing me a tight-lipped smile. I poked his cheek with my finger, eliciting a small chuckle from him. His response only bolstered my confidence. I began full on squeezing his cheeks, watching the way his lips pouted and jawline sharpened (I didn’t think that was possible) with the movements I forced of his skin.

The dopey grin on my face stayed when Hotch approached and stated, “there’s only 4 rooms, so we’ll all have to share.”

He barely finished before I blurted out, “I uh- I’ll take the genius.” I slapped his face lightly on both sides as I said it. Damn it. That sounded way too eager, didn’t it?

Rossi shot me a knowing look as I took the room key from Hotch.

“Dibs!” Garcia shouted, smacking Derek in the abs and his groans thereby taking the attention away from my bright red face.

Spencer and I made our way up the stairs, and the second we were out of their sight, I wrapped my arms around his waist and stumbled with him to our room. I don’t know why I had suddenly become so touchy, but I was just going with it. Maybe it was because – unbeknownst to Spencer – my doctor had given me the all clear to resume strenuous activities today. I even had the voicemail on my phone to prove it.

The room was small – quaint. There was a fireplace in the corner absolutely begging to be lit. Hopefully the brainiac knows how to start a fire because I sure don’t. The most I’ve ever done is light a candle and the occasional incense stick. Okay, well, maybe some other things too, but the FBI didn’t need to know about that.

Nevertheless, the warm browns and oranges in the room made it warm and inviting and feel like home even though my home looked nothing like this. No – my home didn’t look like this at all. My home looked like a 6’1” lanky pipe cleaner with eyes like the brown leather books I made him read to me, hair with waves as big as the ocean, hands so soft and gentle that I’m convinced they could never do any harm.

“What’re you thinking about?” Spencer dropped his go bag on the end of the bed.

I hadn’t taken more than a couple steps into the room. “Thinkin’ about what I’m gonna do to you after you light that fireplace,” I smiled at him. It wasn’t totally a lie. “My doctor cleared me this morning. I can prove it to if you won’t take my word for it.”

“Hmm, sounds like I should light us a fire, then, my love.” He grinned at me and grabbed the lighter from the mantle, managing to produce a tiny flame. It didn’t grow bigger, but it didn’t die out, either. It was perfectly content in the stability of its smallness.

He stood back up and looked at me smugly, like he was surprised he lit anything at all. I walked over to him and wrapped my arms around his neck, tangling his hair in my fingers. I stood on my tip toes so I could place a small kiss on his forehead, then his cheek, his nose, and his other cheek, before his lips.

I kissed him how I wish I could kiss him in the open. I was tired of hiding this from the people I considered to be my family.

My hands left his hair and loosened the red silk tie around his neck. I swiftly unbuttoned his cardigan and button-down shirt, helping him shrug them both off of his shoulders and throw them to the ground, careful not to throw them into the fire.

He played with the hem of my shirt before pulling it over my head and forcing us to break the kiss. The kiss didn’t resume after my shirt came off, though. Instead, his forehead pressed against mine as he reached around and unclasped my bra, pulling the straps off of my shoulders. He dragged his knuckles up from my belly button and between my breasts, causing goosebumps to form all over my body.

His thumb slowly brushed over my bottom lip until he leaned down and kissed me again. We both took off our pants and sank to the ground, the distance to the bed too far.

I pushed Spencer onto his back and straddled him. “Y/n, wait. You need to promise you’ll stop if it hurts,” he said in a hushed tone.

“I promise,” I responded.

I placed my hands on his chest for extra stability as I lined my entrance up with his hard dick and lowered myself onto him. I gasped at the feeling of him stretching me, staying still for a moment while I adjusted.

“Are you okay? Do you need to stop?” He asked.

I shook my head no. He groaned as I began rolling my hips against him. I took his hands that were wrapped around my hips and interlaced our fingers. I pressed our hands into the ground above his head and held them there.

Then, I started riding him. Bouncing up and down on his dick how I had only been allowed to fantasize about this past month. The knot in my stomach tightened as I looked into his eyes.

I released his hands and moved mine to hold his face. Our lips crashed together with a fire much unlike the small one in the hearth next to us. His hands gripped my waist, and he began slamming into me from below, hitting the perfect spot with every thrust.

The kisses became sloppier and almost non-existent as moans fell from both of our mouths. My orgasm hit me like a train; an entire month of not feeling him inside of me made my release that much more powerful. My walls clenched around him that much tighter, causing him to cum, shooting every last drop into me.

I lifted myself off of him and laid by his side, resting my head on his damp, toned chest. His heart was still racing. I looked at the tiny flame and giggled loud enough for him to hear me.

“What?” he asked in between deep breaths.

“I’m sorry, Spence, but that fire is pretty pitiful,” I joked. Despite the underwhelming size of the flame, this scene felt straight out of a rom-com. I could see it clear as day: two people snowed in at their cabin in the mountains without power, no heat or light except that which came from the fireplace, having sex on a giant bear skin rug. Except there was no bear skin rug. And there was barely any heat or light coming from this fireplace.

But this was perfect all the same.

“Hey, I don’t remember volunteering to light a fire, and I don’t exactly forget things,” he quipped.

“Mmm I don’t know if I believe you. There’s gotta be some holes in that memory of yours. Like, okay...” I propped myself up on his chest and looked at him. “...What was I wearing the first time we met?” I already knew the answer.

“Easy,” he scoffed, almost insulted I would ask. “You were wearing a light blue button-down shirt with a gray sweater vest on top. Black high waisted pants: I think they were jeans, but I didn’t get a close enough look. Orange and black striped socks – unusually Halloween-like for the time of year – and a rather worn pair of vans.”

“Uh, yeah, actually.” I had been so excited to start at the BAU that I spent days planning out that outfit. I decided to keep it professional on top but use my socks and shoes as a way to show my personality a bit. Much to my surprise, I wasn’t the only one wearing a sweater vest that day.

“I actually uh- I kind of stopped breathing the moment I saw you. You looked like a better, prettier version of me. You were even wearing a fucking sweater vest like you knew exactly how to make me fall in love with you. I-I thought you were just a figment of my imagination until Hotch walked over to you and showed you to your desk,” he confessed.

I giggled, “really? Well, Doctor Spencer Reid, I can assure you I’m very much not a figment of your imagination.”

He whispered, “you’re right, my love. You’re better.”

My heart just about fell out of my chest at his words. I was left speechless, reduced to absolutely nothing but a beating heart. The only thing I could do was kiss him. I kissed him slow and soft, much like they had all become recently. I kissed him with love, with complete and utter adoration. I kissed him with the knowledge that this wouldn’t be our last, but that it would be our forever.

Laying naked in his arms on the floor, my mind thought of a Dickinson poem.

"Heart, we will forget him!  
You and I, to-night!  
You may forget the warmth he gave,   
I will forget the light."

This poem separates the heart from the mind and instructs each to forget their respective memories. The heart represents the passionate love and attachment felt; the hand holding, the sly smiles across the bullpen, and the sex – oh god, the sex. The mind, however, holds the bright, intellectual feelings; the reading of each other’s favorite books, discussions on what makes a good film (he had listened while I discussed the use of the blue light filter on the first Twilight movie for way longer than anyone should), and my half-attempts at learning how to play chess.

However, this poem hinges on the feelings of heartbreak and the pain felt in its wake. My love for Spencer ran so deep and true that if – and that’s a big if – he hurt me, I would probably thank him just for the opportunity to love him.

I’m sure he would have his reasons.


	22. TWENTY TWO

“Ow. Who the hell decided it would be a good idea to sleep on the floor?” I groaned and rubbed my very sore, very stiff neck. The fire had burnt out overnight, the only light illuminating the room coming from the gaps between the curtains.

“A couple of idiots, I think.” He placed a small kiss on the top of my head. “C-Can we talk about something, though?” he asked.

“Mhm,” I hummed, my eyes closing again as my head rested against his chest.

“I want to tell the team... about us. I just- I can’t keep hiding how I feel about you, because I-I’m all in. You’re it for me.” he declared.

I lifted my head and gave him a quick peck on the lips. “Well then. We’ll just have to find the right time,” I agreed. “...but could it wait until later? I desperately need some coffee first.”

“Of course, my love. I’m sure it’s time for us to get up, anyways.” He stood, his unused joints cracking with the movement. His hand reached out to pull me up from the floor. Just as I became upright, he grabbed the back of my legs and threw me over his shoulder.

“Ew, Spence your bare ass is in my face!” I shrieked. We still hadn’t put any clothes on after our activities from the night before.

“Oh, don’t act like you don’t like it,” he smirked. He carried me to the bathroom where he set me down just outside of the shower. “I’ll grab our stuff; turn on the water, will you?”

I smiled and turned on the shower, letting the water heat up before stepping in. He only looked a little disappointed to see me standing under the water, already soaking wet without him. “Dr. Reid, you’re staring,” I teased.

“What, I can’t look at my very naked girlfriend who’s waiting for me in the shower?” he asked defensively.

“No, I’m just saying I’d rather you join me in here than stand out there.” He followed my directions and got in with me. “Bend down, please...” I instructed. “...so I can reach.” His hair didn’t take long to soak under the pressure of the water.

I squeezed some shampoo in my hands and lathered it before massaging it onto his scalp. He stood up straight and I leaned his head back, trying my hardest not to let the soap run down into his eyes. I raked conditioner through the ends of his short hair and let it sit while I washed his body.

I ran my hands up and down his small, yet surprisingly muscular arms, all over his toned torso and back. I got lost in my thoughts and motions until Spencer leaned down and kissed my forehead, gently reminding me of what was happening.

I rinsed the soap and conditioner from his body and hair, respectively. His hands grabbed my shoulders and switched our positions so I was back under the stream of water. I closed my eyes and let him shampoo and condition my hair.

“I think you’re enjoying this a little too much,” he observed.

“Not possible.” I shook my head. I reveled in the way his giant, gentle hands felt in my hair, cleaning me how I just did him.

I squealed at the feeling of his fingertips ghosting along my abdomen. This son of a bitch was actually tickling me. “Spence-wait-stop!” I cried out in between my fits of laughter. “I-don’t- wanna-fall!”

Right as I finished begging him to stop, my foot slipped on the wet floor. I was inches away from falling directly onto my ass, but Spencer hooked his arms under my back and caught me. I gave him my best pouting “I told you so” face as he helped me stand again.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” the goofy smile spread across his entire face. I finished rinsing my body of the soap and we both got out and dried off.

“Hey, can I wear one of your cardigans today?” I asked as I walked into the now starkly chilly room towards our bags. It’s not that I didn’t have any clean clothes to wear – everyone always made fun of me for how much I packed – it’s just that I wanted to wear something of his. I wanted to feel his arms wrapped around me all day without him actually touching me. I wanted to smell like the fresh scent of his laundry detergent.

“What’s mine is yours, my love. You don’t need to ask,” he called from the bathroom.

I smiled to myself. What’s mine is yours.

\----

“Who’s down for drinks at O’Keefe’s when we get back?” Prentiss asked as we all got comfortable on the jet. “And y/n, before you say anything, you can sleep on the flight home.”

I playfully rolled my eyes; I was way too tired and way too un-caffeinated for this. I turned to look at Spencer sitting on the couch next to me, his eyes filled with hope. Maybe this would be the right time to tell them.

“I’ll do you one better – how about dinner and drinks at my mansion?” Rossi offered. He took every opportunity to cook for us he could find.

“You know I can’t turn down that pasta, Rossi!” Emily responded, with agreeing nods and mumbles from the others.

“Pretty boy and I’ll be there.” I chimed in. Rossi grinned at Spencer and me. I begged him with my eyes to just wait a few more hours. A few more hours and he wouldn’t have to carry our secret anymore.

We all settled in for the long plane ride ahead. Hotch and Rossi talking quietly, JJ and Prentiss giggling about something like they always do, and Garcia and Morgan both sitting with their eyes closed, listening to music through a shared pair of earbuds.

Spencer and I, however, spent the entire flight home laying on each other in one way or another. Sometimes I had my legs swung over his, my head on his shoulder, my head in his lap (my personal favorite), or vice versa.

“Hey, Spence?” I whispered. “Can you do me a favor?”

“Mhm, what is it?” He looked down at my head resting on his lap with his sweet brown eyes.

“Can you pretty please go get me some coffee? If you bring back one that’s big enough, I promise I’ll share.” I gave him my best puppy dog eyes until he finally caved.

“Fine,” he huffed. I saw him glance around the jet. Everyone else was either wrapped up in their own conversations or asleep. “But only because I love you.” He pecked my forehead and slid out from under my head.

I rolled onto my side and watched him walk just out of sight. He returned a few minutes later with one mug of coffee. My heart warmed at the sight. He very easily could’ve made two but chose to only make one so that we’d share.

We took turns getting up to refill our single mug of coffee for the rest of the flight. We didn’t have a book to read either – we blew through the rest of Anna Karenina on the ride here, and both of us had forgotten to pack another. I was just as shocked as Spencer to find out he, the genius that can read 20,000 words per minute, forgot to pack a book on an 11-hour trip one way.

So, we had to pass the time the old-fashioned way. “Here. You go first.” I handed Spencer the pen I had just used to draw a wobbly hashtag on my palm.  
“Tic tac toe? Y/n, there’s only 8 different ways to win. The first move we each make pretty much decides the outcome of the game,” he protested.

“What, are you afraid my dumb brain might actually beat your genius one at something?” I loved using the fact that he was a literal genius to tease him.

He finally took the pen from my hand and made his first move. We played game after game until every free inch of both of our arms were covered in X’s and O’s. I would even go so far as to say that I would’ve been content to play chess, this flight was so long.

At this point, if the team saw us giggling and playing tic tac toe all over my legs, and didn’t know we were actively seeing each other, that was their own problem. A problem, however, that we would be fixing later tonight at Rossi’s.

\----

“Benvenuti amici!” Rossi yelled as he swung open his big wooden front door. Judging by the half empty wine glass in his hand, we were not the first to arrive. He took our coats and led us to the kitchen.

I was right. Everyone else was already here standing around the large island, drinks in hand.

“Y/n! OMG! You’re finally here! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” Garcia slurred at me from across the kitchen. Damn, what was in this wine Rossi had and why was everyone already hammered? Well, not everyone; Hotch was still looking as stoic as ever.

“Pen we literally just saw each other 2 hours ago!” She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed like her life depended on it. It was strangely comforting, though.

“I know, it just felt like forrreeeeverrrr,” she smiled drunkenly.

“Alright, alright everyone, dinner is ready. Let’s eat!” Rossi yelled. We all made our way to the dining room and took a seat. “I’d like to make a toast another case solved, and another year spent catching the bad guys.”

Everyone clinked their glasses and dug into the beautiful looking food Rossi had prepared for us. “So, what exactly are we eatin’ here, Rossi?” Morgan asked, taking a bite before hearing the answer.

“Tonight, we’re having Cacio e pepe, which literally translates to ‘cheese and pepper,’ so everyone...” he cleared his throat for emphasis. “... even vegetarians can eat it.” He gestured towards me with an exaggerated look of disgust on his face.

“Hey, don’t be mean to my girlfriend like that!” Spencer blurted out.

I almost choked on the sip of wine I just took. Spencer and I had discussed how we were going to tell them tonight, but this was not part of the plan. I looked over and saw his face was bright red, just as surprised at the words that left his mouth as I was.

“Derek, you owe me 50 bucks!” Prentiss shouted as the whole team erupted in laughter.

THE END.


	23. EPILOGUE

“You know, I really hate the summertime,” I stated, stepping out of the SUV and shutting the door. We were on a case in Texas, in the middle of August, and even with the car AC blasting, I felt like I couldn’t escape the heat.

“And why’s that?” Spencer questioned, walking around to the driver’s side to meet me, shielding us from view of prying eyes inside the station.

“Because it’s too hot outside for me to wear one of your cardigans.” I toyed with one of the buttons on his sage green cardigan – my favorite. “I honestly don’t know how you do it, but I think you wear them just to taunt me.”

“Your icy personality always keeps me cool, my love,” he teased, looking me straight in the eyes when he said it, but being sure to add my nickname at the end to soften the blow.

“Ouch!” I playfully nudged his torso away from mine, but that only made him push me up against the SUV, trapping me between himself and the hot metal. Despite his words, I don’t think I could’ve been smiling any wider.

One of his hands reached up to hold my face, the other keeping its tight grip on my waist. His smile rivaled my own as he leaned down to kiss me. I’ll be honest, the kiss was absolutely terrible at first. Well, if you could call it a kiss, I guess. It was just our stupid smiling faces pressed against each other.

Finally, though, we kissed for real. We had been together for almost a year and a half, counting the months we affectionately term ‘the arrangement.’ If I broke the kiss to ask Spence right now, I know he would be able to tell me down to the minute without even checking his watch. And still, after all of this time, he gave me butterflies with every kiss, every smile, every word.

Feeling his soft lips against mine stole the breath from my lungs. The way they moved so intentionally, and so in sync with his tongue was dizzying. I wish I could keep kissing him for the rest of eternity.

He pulled back but didn’t let up on the force he was using to pin me against the SUV. I opened my eyes, and they immediately flicked down to his lips, covered in my pinkish-nude lipstick.

“Oh, Spence...” I chuckled, “...look what we did.” I brought my hand up and tried to wipe it off the best I could, but it refused to budge. I wet my thumb on my tongue and thankfully, I got most of it off. They wouldn’t notice the rest, I’m sure.

While I was cleaning the evidence of myself off of his face, he stared down at me with complete devotion, complete love. I crumbled under the way I felt his eyes on me.

I finished and looked up at him, asking “how do I look?”

“Like the love of my life,” he responded confidently as if that was the only possible answer to my question.

“Okay, but is my lipstick smudged?” I nagged.

He shook his head and released his grip on me, instead focusing it on holding my hand. We left the safe bubble of behind the SUV and walked into the station, dropping our hands as we entered.

Everyone on the team obviously knew that we were dating and had been for quite some time now, but we still had to remain professional at work – especially in front of the local police.

“Wow, pretty boy taking his nickname to a whole new level. That shade looks good on you, Reid,” Morgan teased as we met them in the conference room. JJ and Prentiss giggled at Morgan’s comment.

Our faces simultaneously turned a bright shade of red. “Sorry,” I mouthed when he turned to look at me. I really did think I got all of it, but I guess it was more noticeable than I anticipated.

“Reid, go clean yourself up,” Hotch ordered as he shot both of us a warning look.

Spencer left the room, tail between his legs, to go to the bathroom and wipe off my remaining lipstick on his face.

We finished the case pretty soon after that. Garcia, in all of her magical powers, had managed to track the unsub’s phone to a public campsite about 50 miles away. Prentiss had managed to corner him and arrest him, leaving one less serial killer on the streets.

After the arrest, we all went back to the hotel room to pack up and head to the jet waiting for us on the tarmac. Spencer and I sat next to each other in the chairs, like always.

“Music?” I asked, holding out one of my earbuds for him. 

“Mhm,” he hummed, taking it and putting it in his ear.

As much as he liked his classical music, I had converted him to my music taste over the past few months. I even caught him listening to some of my music one time when he thought I wasn’t listening. He denied this heavily, of course. His stubbornness was adorable.

I rested my head on his shoulder and drowned in the lyrics of the songs playing in my ears.

Before I knew it, Spencer was gently waking me up. “My love, we just landed. Hotch said we can go home.”

\----

“Ugh, I’m exhausted,” I huffed as we walked through the door to his place – wait, our place. My lease had ended on the first of August, and Spencer had asked me to move in with him. I wasn’t expecting to him to because I know how much he values his own space, but he wouldn’t have taken no for an answer. And I didn’t want anything more than to live with him.

However, work, as it always does, had gotten in the way. Boxes and boxes of my own books and clothes were stacked up everywhere, my framed art and posters leaning up against them. It was halfway through August and I hadn’t had any time to unpack yet.

“Me too. But I think I have something that will cheer you up,” he grinned.

I mistook his words and body language to mean sex, so when I started excitedly kicking off my shoes and unbuttoning my shirt, he quickly sputtered, “No- I mean yes please to that later, but I was talking about this.” He revealed an envelope he was hiding behind his back. “Go ahead, open it.”

I hesitantly tore open the unlabeled envelope and pulled out four tickets. “Tickets? But-”

“To the Stratford Festival. The one you used to go to with your family. I got us tickets to see Hamlet because they aren’t doing The Tempest this year, and The Rocky Horror Show because I thought you’d enjoy it,” he finished.

“Spence, this is...” I still couldn’t find my words. I was so in shock that he would think to take me there. I hadn’t been since I was a kid.

He noticed my lack of words and filled the silence. “I’ve had these tickets for months, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up in case we couldn’t go. Hotch gave me the final OK this morning,” Spencer confessed.

“This is... so thoughtful, thank you. I love you, Spence,” I whispered, still in disbelief.   
“When do we leave?” I asked.

“Tomorrow morning,” he grinned, leaning down to gently kiss my forehead.   
\----

“That was so good,” I praised as I led him out of the uniquely circular building where we saw the show. Our fingers were laced together tightly as I weaved us through the paths in the garden out front. He didn’t have time to respond before I squealed, “over here!” I yanked his arm to follow me to the park adjoining the garden.

“Look! It’s the bridge!” I bubbled, pointing to a tiny brown wooden bridge across the small river in front of us.

“From the poster!” he said, just as excited about the revelation as I was.

One of the posters I had hanging in my apartment and would soon be hanging in ours was from this festival. All of the main characters from every show that year were theatrically standing on this bridge, a serene white swan on the water below them. The poster was my parent’s from before I was so much as a thought in their minds.

“C’mon, then,” he smiled, leading me over to it.

We slowly made our way to the arched midpoint of the bridge. I walked over to the railing and looked down to the water below. The sun was just setting – we had been to a matinee showing of Rocky Horror – and I was entranced by the way the sun hit the water. The way the orange, red, and pink hues danced in the ripples.

I had expected this trip to hurt. To dredge up unhappy feelings of the past. The last time I had been here was with my family.

I was wrong. This trip only hurt me in the way that I knew Spencer and I couldn’t stay here together forever. But as long as I had him, things would be alright.

Maybe that’s why being here, visiting the place where some of my happiest and therefore saddest memories are from, was okay. It didn’t hurt because he was with me.

Suddenly recognizing his absence from my side at the railing, I turned around to find him standing directly behind me, looking at me. “My love. My sweet, sweet, love,” he emphasized, taking my hands in his. “I have loved you since the second I saw you. The second I looked into your sometimes green, sometimes blue eyes. The second you willingly came with me to a movie that was entirely in a language you can’t speak,” he chuckled. “And I will only love you for the rest of my days. We’ve been through so much together already, and I don’t want to experience this part of my life with anyone else. So, my love, will you marry me?”

Silent tears were streaming down my cheeks as I gazed into his warm brown eyes, the setting sun illuminating his face with an ethereal glow. I loved this man with my whole heart. More than I ever thought myself capable of. “Yes, yes, Spence, I love you,” I sniffled.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a little black velvet box. Inside was the most beautiful ring I had ever seen. It was gold with little leaves engraved into the band surrounding multiple small diamonds. He took the ring out of the box and I held my hand out so he could slide it on. It fit perfectly.

In these moments, it was just Spencer and I in a world of our own making. My heart burst with my love and promise of a future with my favorite lanky, brown haired genius.

I’m glad I never got into The Chariot.


End file.
